He's paranoid about my copying his work, last one with the message: "An...No FUCKIN CELL PH PICTURES NO EMAIL NO REPRODUCTION ANY SORT ... OR ... UR OUT OF PICTURE 4 FUCKIN WIT [ONLY HOMAGES R MY PALS...TUS 4 UR MEMORY- OK!""
Every picture comes with a warning - forbidding all copying. I started us off on the wrong foot when I was photographing his art, and now I'm paying the price...
As of late he's begun assigning me Quests. 2 Pictures, both good (in his inimitable style - with a note attached that I have 18 hours to take them to town and drop them off to X**** at the Bike Shop and Y**** at the Hume hotel, both collectors of his artwork, with directions and passwords to introduce myself...I've become his errand boy...
And every night after work, or after the days adventures I return to the dungeon to find he's left me a present - more rants - on paper coffee cups, tourist literature, drawings - on paper - gifts - a pair of new black steel-toed Timberlands - size 9 1/2 - about 2 sizes too small...
The next day I spot him on the beach, I'm at work, I buy him some lunch, he glances at my shoes - Oxfords, but he mistakes them for the ones he gave me:
"...you're wearing the shoes I gave you...they were my son's, he wore them through 12 different jungles...steel toed because of all the fucking venomous snakes...I had him wear plastic bags over 'em the entire time, that's why they're in such good condition..."
This is one of the rare hints at his own personal tragedy, the one that derailed him, the death of his son, I have no real details, just rumours, before that he was (relatively) normal, but that was the last straw...
He's got a bunch of garbage laid out on the picnic table on the beach, he's explaining what each object is...a bad digital watch: "This is Joe DiMaggio's watch...he gave it to his son...it needs a new strap..." and a big, slightly used candle ... "This was the candle Joe DiMaggio was burning when he proposed to Marilyn..."
...and from there on to the News, Madonna's buying his island, she's done with New York, just finalizing the sale, ... other elaborate stories ... Keith Richards is getting one of his new paintings... the same-old, same-old...
...returning to the dungeon, time to get ready for work, there's another cache left for me, a pewter cup, "Steve" badly engraved on the side, filled with notes and drawings, reading it, there's the hit-list of people who've mistreated him on the Ferry Landing, invective damning Lang's, The Fishing shop, the Bakery, I return outside to thank him...
"Steve McQueen's cup..." he explains to me ...