Jesse McManus has been drawing comics for a long time. He was the youngest contributor to the now legendary oversize Kramer’s Ergot #7. His comics were featured in many different publications including Vice Magazine. Jesse lives and works in Portland, OR.

[Violence Valley] is drawn in a lush brushy style that is part John K bravura and part Charles Burns-like perfection in actual execution of lush brush technique. It’s one of those wordless Jim Woodring-type freakout acid trip sequences where the little tyke winds up inside the bowels of the dog somehow and finds inner peace or something—or so you think, and then it’s all blood and guts and more amazingly articulated brush lines that delineate said guts that look more like psychedelic patterns than guts.—Frank Santoro, The Comics Journal

Jesse McManus has been drawing comics for a long time. He was the youngest contributor to the now legendary oversize Kramer’s Ergot #7. His comics were featured in many different publications including Vice Magazine. Jesse lives and works in Portland, OR.

[Violence Valley] is drawn in a lush brushy style that is part John K bravura and part Charles Burns-like perfection in actual execution of lush brush technique. It’s one of those wordless Jim Woodring-type freakout acid trip sequences where the little tyke winds up inside the bowels of the dog somehow and finds inner peace or something—or so you think, and then it’s all blood and guts and more amazingly articulated brush lines that delineate said guts that look more like psychedelic patterns than guts.—Frank Santoro, The Comics Journal

Jesse McManus has been drawing comics for a long time. He was the youngest contributor to the now legendary oversize Kramer’s Ergot #7. His comics were featured in many different publications including Vice Magazine. Jesse lives and works in Portland, OR.

[Violence Valley] is drawn in a lush brushy style that is part John K bravura and part Charles Burns-like perfection in actual execution of lush brush technique. It’s one of those wordless Jim Woodring-type freakout acid trip sequences where the little tyke winds up inside the bowels of the dog somehow and finds inner peace or something—or so you think, and then it’s all blood and guts and more amazingly articulated brush lines that delineate said guts that look more like psychedelic patterns than guts.—Frank Santoro, The Comics Journal