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 the studio I keep going back to pieces that have evolved over the last few months...sometimes my additions are two steps forward and sometimes three steps in reverse.
But for the moment...I think BLOOD OF CHRIST is done...that is unless I get some dammar varnish, then it would be tempting to go on a ways playing with patinas...
...and here we are again, the close of another month...
...okay. so I am back to my religious period...what can I say?
It has been like living on the west coast for the last few days. The mornings are cloudy and the ground is wet from rains of the night. It is monsoon season, but this year it is wetter and longer through the days than usual. The good thing for me and the land is I have not had to water the garden now for days...that is good being so far we have harvested only a handful of green beans, and the water bill was $111 this month...good beans huh?
I really must take a course in growing stuff, but I am not sure it can overcome my Darth Vader thumb.
Meanwhile out in the studio...
I have prepared a dozen small frames to do something on. So far not a clue what it will be or not be...
by the by...the stretching frames were given to me by Barbara, a fellow artist who said she had no use for them and then went off to Texas to help her sister in moving to New Mexico. On their way back, in Oklahoma City, they were rammed on the freeway by some kind of big truck. They were pulling a horse trailer with a horse and all of her sister's possessions. The impact flipped their vehicle off an overpass and it landed upside down on the freeway below. Just as it happened a paramedic was passing by.
He pulled all of the people from the wrecked car just as it exploded, but they were burned severely.
The miracle was they all survived, although are still in the hospital going through numerous skin grafts...
An artist has to be very careful in saying they have no further use of their material, for apparently it was a prophesy too close to being fulfilled.
Barbara will be home in a day or two, and hopefully resume new energies in being an artist again. All of her sister's possessions were destroyed, but the horse in the trailer was the only fatality.
My studio every once in a while begins to drive me crazy because I tend to just pile up things when I am in the middle of doing artwork. Then when it is nothing but chaos I will go to another project and ignore the mess, but after a week or two, just walking through the clutter I begin to go bonkers, and then will spend a whole day putting my sense of order back in place so I can start the whole process again...
Anyway, what always amazes me and reminds of early days when I took art classes in college, that often the most creative thing that would happen in the students painting rooms were the accidental splashes on the tables.
It would seem I have kept to that serendipity creative process, because each time I clear my table I am astounded how unique it is. It should be in a museum...
Last night was a going away party and a celebration of two old timers getting together. I drank beer and took pictures...
(click on photo for bigger view)
Yesterday some of my family dropped by...
For the last few days there has been a very funny interchange on that other website "Facebook" of which somehow I got entangled...but it all started when my old buddy Johnny Melville posted the below:
I am there, just a little difficult to see me and John Bolton inside the giraffe...the others from left to right, Johnny Melville, Neil Cameron, Robert Noble, Mike Rowan, John Sampson and little "Moose" Broda.
We went to the Robert Plant (Led Zeppelin) last night. He was great with a new band that have a unique sound mixed between north African, raga, blue grass, Nashville, Roxy Music and American gospel. Plant's voice was the same, but he sure has left Zeppelin far behind.
Ruth wants to adopt animals from Louisiana...I reminded her we already have 3 dogs, 3 cats, 3 ducks, 3 chickens and 1 Peahen, plus 2 horses and a pit bull my nephew-in-law brought...I love animals too, but sometimes I feel like I am in a zoo, not a house...so I have deflected her request, but I don't know for how long, and I will not watch the TV when they put the sad pictures of animals condemned to the gas chamber or however they do it...
Everybody is schmuck in some way.
We did a day trip to Cochiti Lake yesterday and managed to swim for an hour or two.
A surprise for us was to discover there is a place called Cochiti Lake Town, which is an upscale new town sitting out in the country side...very nice with a cute little community packed together just like a real town with no shops except for a gas station and Subway/Pizza integrated with a Laundromat...and even further from facilities than Cerrillos.
Nice place but it has got to be a pain to drive 60 miles to get groceries or what not...
Even more surprising was how few people were at the lake, considering it is the middle of vacation time. we plan to go again soon on a weekend just to see if it really is undiscovered.
This weekend it was the International Folk Art Festival in Santa Fe. Being we got rained out of going to the lake, we went to the festival, where Ruth deposited over a hundred smackers benefitting artisans in Mexico and one of those countries ending in stan....
Naturally there were many beautiful objects and an overload of ethnic looks, but so many visitors one could hardly get near the displays...but not Ruth. She is a professional.
I forgot my camera, so the images above are Google takes.
Going to that Google site I discovered a very weird photo of one the festival directors that could be a member of Ruth's tribe in front of a funny mirror...
Attempting to look like a happy old man, I still retain the grumpy curmudgeon.
We were going camping today, but due to a cloudy sky and rain forecast, a day at the nearby lake does not seem a good idea.
But back to perceiving what is...
I saw the murky underwater interview with the young Cousteau, which makes me feel even worse about the Gulf Catastrophe...there is no way to avoid knowing we are all part of this world horror that will reveal itself in more ways than anyone can imagine.
I win the GRUMPY OLD MAN PICTURE award this week.
Other than that, last night I restrung Molly Gibson, my faithful, if badly abused old 1959 guitar. She still is as sweet as the the first note I ever truly plucked. The poor old gal disserves a major face lift but that is unlikely ever to happen while she is in my hands. You see, each one of those little scars and blimps are her memoir of hanging out in some kind of rock'n roll history with me. I always tell people if Molly could talk you would not believe the stories...
The sad but true part is the first time I ever saw her in 1969, she was like she had just danced off the craftsman's bench without one single nick on her beautiful body. I only had her a few hours before there was a large groove down the middle of her back caused by an over sized belt...
Any hows...I went up to the bi-weekly OPEN MIC NIGHT at the Mine Shaft and howled two variations of the same old blues song I have done for way too many years. They are so nice at the event; everybody saying how good I was and ignored the fact it was the same thing they heard the last time I was crazy enough to get on stage...
July 8. Thursday
I have decided as a big event to include the day of the week at the front of each important missive.
That seems to be it for today except for one major event.
I will announce new community safety.
The older I get, the less serious I am about whatever art is supposed to be or mean.
So when I put my fabulous New Mexico Bon Zi Art out on the road, I add a few old numbers that have been hanging in the doldrums for years.
For the holiday we rendezvoused with my nephew and great nephew's families down in an unique part of New Mexico, in Mountainair...there are some amazing Spanish colonial mission ruins nearby.
We found a cottonwood tree that had the biggest cotton balls I have ever seen.
We had a very pleasant evening together and in the morning did a brief tour of the town...naturally Ruth found things to buy which she says she will double the money.
Kip. Kelly, Sienna, Cletus, Lizzie, Baby Belle and Ruth from right to left.
I would have liked to have shown Ruth the murals I did years ago in the Catholic church and at the school, but they were not open...
The only sour note was her car sprung a leak in the radiator so we boiled over before we got safely home, but other than that it was a a lovely and rewarding time to see my family and find a few new places of interest...note the Schafer Hotel's dining room annex and the American flag.
Who says Americans are not broad minded?
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!
I came up with another amazing big money making idea...
Ah yes, New Mexico Bon Zi...
Okay, what the hell is a NM Bon ZI?
I thought you would be asking that question.
Well, it is a long story, but here is the short version:
The other day I was weeding out the back yard and discovered the dreaded CHOLLA CACTUS had resurrected 30 little baby monsters...so the first one I pulled out of the ground by it's throat and said, "Die you little bastard!" and then proceeded to throw it on the bonfire...
As I was walking away, I heard a tiny voice plead, "No, please don't slay us, make us BONZAI."
I Changed it to BON ZI.
Revolutionary! And I did. Below are the pictorial results of my path to a new fortune.
These days most of the locals have abandoned the old drinking quarters and gone across the street to THE HOLLAR, where the beer is cheaper and we can sit outside and smoke cigars if we want...anyway I have a habit of capturing their shining faces from time to time, so here are a few...
What I am up to the last couple of days...
...is reconditioning the
who is too big to fail...
and one of Ruth's little projects for me (which only took 4 days to finish) but well worth the effort of course...an old library card index cabinet she bought for $2.50 but when I picked it up, it fell completely apart...
More ye oldes buddies
The horse in repair
...and some old pals at the bar where Lin got the SHAMAN TRAFFIC DIRECTOR for his second birthday this year...
The internet is amazing for one reason if nothing more...with a dab of the finger one can find old friends not seen or heard from for years. So it goes my old music buddy from my 3 years in Corsica got in touch with me yesterday.
Of course in 24 years since I lived in Corsica I have wondered many times whatever become of Philippe...so in a nut shell, divorce, remarriage and 4 more kids, a move away from the island back to the mainland of France and a career in selling old books. In the picture above with one of his kids, he looks a little older but hardly changed.
He lives in Brittany, so now there is reason we may some day go back to Europe, but first we have to win the lottery...
And some art ...
Ruth and me courtesy of java Linda a few weeks ago...
More pals and the stuff I've been up to for the last couple days...
Finally finishing the ceiling...
Me and mural...
A mural that was the Christmas Story but fell apart from being outside for 8 years is now becoming a theme I often do;
THE COWBOY AND THE LADY....
and the lids next door help me slop the paint...yes there really is a cowboy, lady and a horse there...
The mural before it changed...and the kids who continually change...
... another crazy creature...
Ruth and the dogs on our evening stroll down in the river area.
You may remember the Hollar pals... so now can you put the feet with the face?
Okay, if you can put them together, copy and paste, send me an email and you will be the lucky winner of a fantastic NEW MEXICO BON ZI...