Hey. It’s been a while since I last spoke or wrote to ya. Remember me writing that Hector asked me politely to leave his house so others could have a place to stay for a couple of weeks? Well, I said goodbye and see ya later and thank ya very much and after all of that I kinda had a hard time finding a place to stay.
Agnes and me, well, let me just say that if we don’t see each other in a long, long time, that’s fine with me. Things can change with the speed of light and the last weeks of my life have been certified proof of that.
There is this guy who has an art gallery near the Queensboro bridge and he’s given me permission to stay in his workshop for a little while. I’ve known him for a couple of years and I guess I’m just very lucky that there are still people out there who give a shit about me, or at least enough shit to keep me under a roof for some weeks.
His name is Des Voeux. That’s his last name. I don’t know his first, come to think of it, I don’t think anyone knows his first name. Anyhow, he’s in the artbusiness and he does a little of painting himself. His workshop is behind his gallery and is nothing more than a stone shack, walls covered with paint and a temperature hovering ‘round freezing point because ‘it keeps the tension in the air’. Artsy-fartsy talk if ya ask me, but hey, sleeping in the cold under a roof and between solid walls is better then sleeping in the cold.
Lately, Des Voeux had some troubles with breaking n’ entering and some of his expensive pieces of art, mostly sculptures, were stolen, so me sleeping in his workshop kinda keeps the criminals away. That’s the whole, big idea behind it and as ya might imagine, it’s fine with me.
I only have one bag with all my personal stuff. It’s quite a big bag, green and it’s made of some really strong fabric, like they use in the army or something. On the side of the bag there’s a black silhouette of a rat. There used to be some words under the rat, but they are all faded. I don’t mind that all my ‘earthly belongings’ fit into one ratbag.
I kinda like it.
Talk to ya later, John.
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