Brian Biggs weaves a haunting tale of Boyd Solomon, a man who may (or may not) be able to fly. Boyd is writing a letter (or is it a suicide note?) to his former girlfriend, Julia. Through his missive, he reveals (in a non-linear fashion) moments from his past and parts of his psyche. They include: a dead body in the middle of the desert; dozens of pet birds; a (perhaps) suicidal father; a lifelong obsession with flight; and a disturbing little man who knows all.
At first, Biggs' art and story are somewhat off-putting. Ugly, contorted faces and broken people glare at you from the page. But the longer you stick with it, the greater the story becomes. Biggs' fine linework and gray tones create a creepy world full of seemingly insignificant little nuggets that you only later realize are important. The more you read, the more you realize that each panel contains information and forshadowing---and you haven't been paying close enough attention. Feathers, clouds, cages---everything is more than it seems.
Dear Julia, is a deceptively simple story that gains depth the more you look at it. Devoid of easy answers and neat resolutions, Biggs provides all the pieces, but the reader puts together the picture of who Boyd Solomon is.