An enigma wrapped up in a riddle, no real name, a series of real events (death of son), as well as a series of what are most probably - certainly - fictional events, constant in the retelling, he's written down the lyrics of the love song that Mother Theresa wrote for him "I LOVE YOU ***** *****, I LOVE YOU..."...and I have the inspiration, the documentary, for sure, he's too entertaining to be kept here, but - maybe - a Broadway styled musical, the children of Calcutta singing "We love you *****" to him as he and Mother Theresa deliver the gold to the orphans, the countless misremembered jingles and lyrics that adorn his artwork, the random appearance of celebrities, the whole Baron Munchausen take on a life more richly lived......now he's talking about all the places that have banned him from their premises, the hot-springs, the post office - "...I mean, girls send me naked pictures of themselves all the time, I'm an artist!!!" (he'd made the mistake of opening his mail at the post office), and here he does the craziest impression ever of people telling him that he's been inappropriate, the fire chief on the East Shore, only when most people do impressions of people they change the voice, it's a bit comic and weird and exaggerated, only his voice - nasal, stringy, is suddenly exchanged for a "Normal Voice" - insane, it's like he's channeling every mockery of normal, you can't help but laugh out loud, and he's there, gesturing wildly, throwing his hands back, one mitten on, the other off, layered clothes, toque, hoodie, coat, vest,...the Sorceress, a new theme he's hinting at, the new chapter of his life, a lady, lives off in the woods, might be able to cure his tingling left hand, his drawing hand, it's been useless since the stroke, he's had to use his right, he's not right handed, she might be able to fix it, he's not holding his breath but there will be some new scrolls coming, a new chapter, I'm looking forward...
Meanwhile, this last batch, a Batsh*t original detailing how I should be suing the hot-springs on his behalf, "Lawyer Litn'n Rod", about how I'll sue for $5 million and get a 1.5 million "Out Quart" settlement, in Deutsche Krugerrands, an old Polaroid of a jeep in some sand dunes - a treasure map, drawn on a coaster, gangsta chases and cars, recipes, a map of Nelson that he's dubbed Twerpsville, the stone ground coffee he brings me, did I know he does it himself between rocks in the forest and I believe him, see the coarsely ground coffee, the pine needles poking through the bag...
I dug out an old HD Camera from the locker here, gave it to him with vague instructions, in return I get a long video - as long as the Ferry Ride, from the East Shore to Balfour, from inside the cafeteria, through the rainy window, a cup of coffee poured deliberately in front of the lens...long pause, a thermos is deliberately nudged, slowly, in front of the lens, then lifted up, it's hilarious, he's experimenting, figuring it out, and while this is insane there's great promise...other videos, he's now interviewing people on the Ferry, on the ride in to Nelson, asking inane questions, now he's the one making documentaries..."ha ha I ain't trimmed my toes in haf time 'roun the sun", - a detail from one of his scrolls...