From Book 1: Breton Makes It Official

            Finally he finished, rolled up his rug and stood up, his face collapsing into brown wrinkles as he smiled. He nodded to me, and reached out to playfully slap Artaud’s cheek, again startling the young man. “Peace be with you both!” the Muslim cried, and slipped into the crowd. Artaud’s hand flew to hisContinue reading “From Book 1: Breton Makes It Official”

From Book 4: Someone is Imitating Artaud

The Sins of Nin, Part One. The Sins of Nin, Part Two. NOTE: While I use Anaïs Nin’s Diary as a source for events, after years of studying Artaud’s letters to both men and women I find her conclusion that Artaud was gay and attracted to Nin’s husband Hugh Guiler to be a load ofContinue reading “From Book 4: Someone is Imitating Artaud”

From Book 2: We are in a Novel

            “Do you want to know the truth?” Louis said, suddenly despondent. “I don’t sense the presence of any great mystery. The only reason I’ve blundered into being a painter is that I don’t know what else to do with myself. I’m not religious. I’m not interested in getting married or starting a family. GoodContinue reading “From Book 2: We are in a Novel”

From Book 2: Youki

Huge snowflakes fell, crisp and glittering, etching the trees and the railings and the eaves in silver for a brief and fragile dusting. It was very cold, unusually so, and the slush on the sidewalks had turned to ice. “This is rare for Paris,” Louis remarked. “The first time I saw snow I was threeContinue reading “From Book 2: Youki”

From Book 1: I Hang These Words in Flesh

            “You know, Geoff, if you really hate the idea of living with your folks,” Roger commented, “you could get a place of your own, around here. You’d have plenty of company. We’re all trying to escape our families.”             “That’s for sure,” murmured Justine.             I mulled this over as we passed a smallContinue reading “From Book 1: I Hang These Words in Flesh”

Excerpt from Book 1: Robert Desnos

            There were voices outside and someone pounded on the door. Desnos answered it and let in a group of five or so friends. Before any introductions could begin more people walked right in, so he left the door open to the warm night air. Some of the people I recognized from the theatre thisContinue reading “Excerpt from Book 1: Robert Desnos”