Rocks make good listeners, and they can teach you how to grow very old, but they can’t help you become immortal.
In the shadowed corridors of creativity, where the flicker of neon meets the hum of a distant melody, Kevin M. Cowan weaves his enigmatic tapestry. His words, like whispered secrets in a dimly lit alley, unravel tales that linger in the corners of the mind, haunting yet familiar. As a musician, he crafts soundscapes that echo through the labyrinth of the soul, each note a ghostly echo of forgotten dreams. A technologist at heart, he navigates the digital twilight with a deft touch, conjuring worlds where the mechanical and the mystical entwine. In this noir-zine realm, Cowan stands as a modern alchemist, transforming the mundane into the sublime, leaving an indelible mark on the ever