Friday, August 22, 2008


I had coffee with BILAL. I asked him to peek into my mind.
He saw strange creatures with stranger expression.
He said something in french, I allowed him.
This he drew from memories once forgotten.
potrait of tuition teacher as gaiman
I asked Bilal to reveal the farce/face of the one called Sumo then called Dukes then named Big Mac. He painted a Gaimanish feature shadowed by cookie monster who looks in need of sleep. Badly. The potrait revealed little. But it ask a lot. Is it after all a dude storyteller beneath that gobbling blue monstrosity? Is it a shaman conjuring tales unseen from the netherworld to spew forth from one so grosteque in blue collar horror? Is it the dream of monster who dreamt that he/it/was gaiman? Is it gaiman dreaming he was a blue monster? Is it after all just a dream from the smokes of the shesha pipes?

Portrait of La Tey as liberated

I asked Bilal to unravel the enigma of La Tey. He drew a scarf blood red and billowing in the wind. He drew the liberation of flight. He almost re-imagined the son of Krypton but reveal one going against the wind. Is it one going forward then? Is it one held back? Is it one with great determination to go against the wind? Is it one drawn to be hindered by the blood red scarf instead? There is only the silence the scarf held with no sound uttered but only the partial answer of a face with the eyes closed.

I asked Bilal if he will drew me from a distance. He obliged. I stood outside the hotel ready to depart. He captured me in transition. Sometimes that is all I can be.

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