[WinterMillennium]

Originally Posted by Clive Barker

Perhaps we could put the references to Cenobites aside for a while and address real pain, daily pain, the pain that makes me feel claustrophobic because I'm trapped in my flesh and bones and they ache all the time. There's no escape hatch. The body starts its inevitable decline and our nerves do their job of reporting those profoundly unpleasant sensations to the brain. That's where things get really problematical for an artist such as myself. Until the last six or seven years I lived in a blessed state. When I was ready to make art I simply slipped out of my mind and flew. My work was a kid of poetic journalism; I reported what I saw with my mind's eye. I was like a bird flying on thermals. It took no effort to soar. And then I was kicked out of Paradise. Into my life came inexplicable chronic pain. And I have not flown on painless wings since. Those of you who know me well will already have realized that around this period I ceased to work at such a productive rate. And I got a lot of very distressing responses from readers who demanded that I work faster, and stop being so damn lazy. I decided not to tell them what I'm sharing with you now because I knew there'd only be a further barrage of accusations in response. All I can do is work as fast as I am able, even though my mind is constantly interrupted by the tormentor in the shadows of my body, who scarcely lets a minute go by without reminding me that house is sealed and I'm locked in with a thing that lives to make me hurt. Well **** it, I'm going to keep dreaming. And if the work comes more slowly, at least it will keep coming.

and that's possibly an answer to your question, straight from the horse's