HOME it's green
...the green page is the small story of how Santiago McBoil came to be...
...and on with the 3rd book in the HARLEQUIN MOON TRILOGY
© copyright, January 1, 2009
Review and beginning
Everything goes wrong and then ultimately everything goes right for Santiago–but he keeps hearing a voice whisper in his mind, "A crystal tight rope. It’s as dangerous to walk on, as it is to fall off."
Santiago’s first two books become international best
sellers. He is miraculously declared free of disease, and finds a large
bank account can make him happy, for a while – rents a house in the hills above
In Corsica, Martina wanted back in the picture. Santiago, said to her, “You know I already paid the price of admission to you more than once…I just don’t feel like seeing the movie again...eh, today..."
He discovers the truth of Dark Eyes.
Yes, he knew there was something very odd about sex with Dark Eyes. My God, he had no idea they could do that to a penis.
The other puzzlement, Dark Eyes was the half brother of Martina. Had it been an accident their paths crossed in Paris? Was it orchestrated?
Also; the brutally murdered dirty-old-Corsican-sheep-herding-grandpa…what was that story?
As for Neil, his life long friend who had been his accidental savior in Vietnam and co-partner in lust with Martina, why was he back in Corsica?
The very strange coincidence of hearing about the “odd bloke
who wore no underwear under his kilt” also had been connected to Yokomi,…instead
she arrived with a Frog,
Who does he wind up with – Neil, Martina, Dark Eyes, Yokomi or someone not even seen yet?
Where is Leila, the ex-wife , and Tara, the daughter?
What ever became of the Gypsy ?
At the end of the second book, Santiago no longer can discern fantasy from reality.
Santiago discovers having everything can be nothing too.
He returns to America with a woman he did not even know 24 hours before, the new woman in his life.
In this little world of Ruth and mine we have so many animals...and with my nephew-in-law came two horses and his dog Squiggles who looks like a killer pit bull but is in Ferdinand the bull, if you remember that story... he is without doubt the most gentle creature I have ever seen.
This is usually where Shiloh attacks other male dogs, but notice Squiggles...usually he just falls on his back and squeals...
It may seem odd but I am inspired and depressed by art, sometimes at the intersections of fate and certainty .
The recent exhibition of a fellow artist inspired me greatly and at the same time other art I saw that night as we sauntered along the boulevards of consumerism made me feel like I never ever ever would want to create one more worthless effort of creativity.
Never the less, I continue, like one of my buddy James and me's , favorite anti-hero
THE HORSES MOUTH
On the right panel of this page
OWN LITTLE EXHIBIT
I said to the nurse, "That sure got me over any gay fantasies."
She said, "I wish I had a nickel every time I've heard that."
A prostate biopsy is not a pleasant experience. It also left me again with two questions:
1. Why would anyone want something stuck up their butt?
2. What is that makes a doctor want specialize in being an ass plunker?
A mystery still...and this was my third anal probe. Maybe we are all caught in the question that has no answer.
I will not hear the results of that plunge for a couple weeks, so I get to anticipate the journey of what will be, which is comparable to any long tour to a foreign country...enjoy the passage because the arrival may not be where you wanted to be.
In the mean time I can reflect on what a blessed existence I have, and after watching Al Jezeera last night as well as Mosaic World News, I know it is not only me, but most of us incredibly unconscious Americans.
Everything is relative, but I am so happy to be where I am instead of Pakistan or Sudan or a thousand other desperate lands in this world.
It seems life is always just waiting to put something around the corner from you that is one kind of a surprise/dilemma or the other...for the most part I have got away very lightly in the sense of misery/suffering, but every dog has his day, and it may be that little cliché is just around my next corner.
What I am alluding to is that tomorrow I go to the VA for another biopsy (my third) to see what my old prostate gland is up to...that is, the dreadful
Oh well, I have already been through this once, thinking I had it, twice thinking it was gone, and now back to the maybe...
One has to have some rational.
Mine is that I am damn lucky I am not already dead a good number of years considering how many times the grim reaper slipped past me without taking a nick off my pretty skin.
So I wait and see what the docs say after the old butt pluck...
I started to refinish one of my old horse works and got carried away with a beat tin look...
Other than that...
We had Neil and Margie staying with us for a few days while they think about New Mexico possibilities..
...and an obligatory tour to Tinker Town and the Crest...
Well...nothing horrible happened yesterday (being unlucky 13) other than me singing and playing my old girlfriend Molly at the open mike last night.
Before that we all went to the wedding reception party Gerald and Lilly had at the Hollar. Naturally I drank way too much, but what the hell are wedding parties for?
Thank you, Mercedes Benz Brake Division Team. Go boys and girls, you kept me in the swirls. Kenneth J. Wolverton
The painting below was done by fellow artist James Leigh Hayes.
ART NIGHT ON CANYON ROAD
We went up to Canyon Road last night for an art opening of one of Madrid's art entrepreneurs and so it was a evening out for what we call us "Madroids"
...and then this week, Ruth's old buddies from NYC are here for a few days touring the land...
We recently went on a road trip of which slowly I will clip on this page.