The foxies have gone to earth. Golden George is dead, and the world is wide. And the Never Never Land is beautiful. Vali has many faces, is maybe many people, but doesn't belong to nobody, and nothing. Who is Vali. What you see. And there's many kind of eyes. Maybe Vali is dead. Who knows. She died so often. There's a new gun, nearly as tall as a tree, and a beautiful new bed, red, black, and gold. And the Never Never Land is beautiful and one will believe again. I've gone away. So, if I've gone away, I'm not here. I know I don't want anything, don't need anything. She's gone to earth.

There's always a social implication and the more outside the fence one is, the more deeply implicated. You saw what happened at the English Customs, and that was chicken to what has happened and does happen on any level with us. In the animal world I have a place, but it helps me as much as it does Josey when it comes to people. I'm not complaining, but I'm on my own and I know it. At the best of times, to people, I'm a curiosity, and no one at any time seems to realize the spirit fight I must do, both in and out, to make out. And to make out I've got to eat, sleep, and to make peace, sometimes for myself. How come that I should be gratified that...

(2)

...are making a blood pact, and I've started a new big book, with hand made paper, and all my animal familiars in it (pen drawing all vivid painted). My chin is tattooed right from under lip down to under chin, and I can't imagine it was never there before. Animals and us have our new Winter fur now, and making love, and everything is gold & green, and big sea winds blowing. My mother, who is going blind since a few years, is sending me her lovely violin, and I know I'll play it soon, like mad. Welsh harp and fiddle are 2 of my favorite instruments. My Mum played like an angel. To make her happy my Dad used to tap-dance when he came home from being away on the ships. Shelley & Diane, good luck always babies I wish everyone good luck. Today with my blood, I'm so happy-sad, like a beautiful death. We're going to dance at the big Albert Hall in London on january 15 at Donovon's Festival Concert.

(3)

...toad, called Bert. I found him this morning defending himself from 6 enormous hens. He's only a baby, but whenever one attacked him, he puffed up, big as he could, and leaped forward toward them like a Japanese wrestler. They're very lucky to keep as pets (Gypsies often keep them) and give them milk and such to drink. Love and kisses all over and everything beautiful for our movie. Kisses from Wu. Vali. Hassan is so black and beautiful.

I had a big walkabout, more than a month. Cold, wild and windy. I never thought I'd make it. There's no joy rides and no trips in the Never Never Land. Flying is cheating if you can't walk, even though there's flying foxies. XXXXXX

(4)

...in time. Rudi is just painting dancing animals and little people all over the tipi. Yesterday Foxy nearly was killed by Billy the boxer dog. Her little mouth was full of blood and she screamed terrible. But today she's alright again (stood on my head) and Billy is exiled into the out-back. This morning Hassan the black stallion jumped a high stick fence we'd just put up in the garden and we thought her fetlock was broken (like that, you may as well kill a horse). Rudi and I felt like to die. But after a while we found it was only injured and in a few days he'll be alright.

...anyway. More magic maybe if we're not around. Hope you cross the Atlas. Wu and I are going "bush". We only seem to be O.K. with animals anymore. It's lonely but beautiful. I'd love to dig with people, any people, and people, bit I'm too open and get wiped out, (above the belt). If you come across any groovy tribes in the Atlas, just let us know. Love & kisses from 2 lost souls to 2 dear babies.

(5)

...valley to our place 2 plain-clothes policemen (Salerno.). They walked in, looked us over, and said -- "what do you eat?" "how wide is your bed" "who are your friends?" One of them stood up on our little magic ladder to our bed, felt the mattress, and said -- "it's too hard." Then they said "doesn't the smell of animals bother you?" "No" says Rudi "only the smell of people." That didn't endear us to them, so they went away. And our whole battle is with people like this. The police is Posi have been or horrible as possible and the Mayor is using them all the way. I doubt if they have any more garbage they can throw at us. All the more simple local people are for us and furious at what is happening. They write to papers, and all, and chew the fat, etc. but unless we can wipe out the police, we've had it. Their ignorance is really something (and terrifying,) cause what they don't understand, doesn't exist, and and it seems impossible to get through to them. And like police all over, they're being as low and dirty as they can be. Rudi does baffle...

(6)

...the dogs. I've found a strange new gift in me. Josey and I spin together now. But I'm wiped out after, even sick. If one of the aniumals is missing or something lost, I put myself into a never, never trance. After a certain time I get up, and withjout a thought in my head, go to the lost thing, directly. One out little brown female ducks flew away the other day. We didn't see her go, and she could have been anywhere. After a time, I put on my big rubber boots, and went far off into the valley, doenin the stream, direct to the little duck. It's scarey in a way, but it feels beautiful while it happens. I beleive its just kind of feeling on a wave length that I think animals have and probably all people had before. Anyway, it's a work, and I get a terrific "mal de tete" afterwards. Shaman witchery have to be paid for, but it's exciting, and beautiful like dancing is. Diane -- take it easy baby, with the love-charm. Don't let it take over. But never be afraid of it. Be beautiful brave kids.

Don't be cross babies, when I pitch a witchey bitch. The moon is in it. On the mountain we are suddenly beautiful again.

...last debt. Sometime during the "no moon" I began drawing mad beautiful things in black ink and color, all spinning in a rooster feather wind. I'm refeathering. Take my hating with my loving, as that which cannot help to be.

Original format: Three sheets printed on both sides, 12 by 21 inches, folded into thirds. Photo credit: Diane Rochlin. Numerous photos were omitted to reduce download time.

Adapted for the web by Andrew Stafford.
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