HOT DIGGEDY DAMN! I AM, INDEED, A DOLL!!!
I am pleased to have, among my acquaintances, a whole array of truly artistic people. Actually, I’ve been drawn to artistic types for a very long while, maybe to do with envy, since I’ve never been able to draw, except stick figures. I did my "time" in and amongst the hoi-polloi of the Seattle, Washington, art community, collecting such Northwest stellar artists as Kenneth Callahan, Paul Horiuchi, Bill Ivey, Bill Cumming, Paul Havas, Bruce Selchov, Karl and Hilda Morris… Experiences from which I drew to write my bisexual murder mystery THE FAG IS NOT FOR BURNING (not to be missed, by the way!).
"FOR GOD’S SAKE,you have to be kidding!" Cord said after seeing what Morgan selected for him from one of several closets.
"Because you want to understand," Morgan insisted. "And dressing up is part of it. Besides, Don has someone here tonight who I’m sure you’d like to quiz about Horton. It’s this way, or no way."
"You’ll see," Morgan assured, dropping the uniform on a bench that would have looked right at home in a school locker room. In fact, the whole place resembled a locker room. There were two private showers and a large, communal one. There was a urinal, three toilets, and a bidet, all lined up military style, and a couple of enclosed toilet stalls. Pretty extensive a setup for some guy’s basement.
Cord watched Morgan who, obviously knowing where things were, conjured motorcycle boots, a helmet, a billy-club, handcuffs, and what looked like a genuine police-issue revolver and holster.
Someone who has come to be one of my very favorite artists is Star Urioste, doll-maker extraordinaire, who approached me a couple of years back with a query as to whether or not I’d like to see myself as "a doll" — since I "so obviously already" was one. How could I refuse? The result being the anatomically correct free-standing gold ("the author as jaguarspirit son") doll which I immediately placed at the doorway of my office and whose life-like appendage has grown exceedingly shiny over the past few months (like the snout of a bronze boar once spotted in a European town square and regularly stroked for good luck), from me and everyone else groping a feel on each and every pass by (I should be so lucky in real life).
As if that wasn’t enough, Star recently sent me another addition for my collection — the author, as an action-figure doll "the deer hunter" (just the first, I understand, of a series of "author as" action-figure dolls soon to be forthcoming as welcome additions to my collection).
Thank you, Star, from the top of my head, to the ends of my toes, to the tip of my dick!