If you search Google images for Post Apocalyptic love you’ll likely yield darkened images of couples adorned in gas mask amongst a ruined landscape. Attached together by hoses sharing their few precious breaths. Each image varies but shows one thing. TRUE LOVE until the end and who doesn’t truly want that kind of madness and devotion? Love is it’s own disaster and to hold on to it through all out war and destruction makes my toxic heart swoon and pitter pat. My personal obsession with Post Apocalyptic romance stems from a broken childhood and an early affection for sci fi and horror. On hot afternoons in my grandfather’s den watching Spock with his intellect and unique akward charm go to other worlds. Twilight Zone, Night Gallery and The Outer Limits making me question and wonder about the what ifs and beyond. Classic movies like: “A Boy And His Dog” “War Of The Worlds” “The World, The Flesh & The Devil ” Somehow this warped melding of sci fi and horror melded with my love of the 1950s Nuclear Family. This image of a “perfect” family unit somehow itself warped and twisted. It’s hidden darkness under a sunshine and rainbows disguise. A false sense of security much like old propaganda films such as Bert The Turtle “Duck and Cover” during a nuclear explosion, you just know it won’t save your ass. So in a world of false hope and lies I’ve maintained survival skills and carried a torch for all things doomsday. We’re all fucked in the end but if you have a gas mask and a sweetheart mutated humans trying to eat your flesh just doesn’t seem so bad!