robert twigger
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The Strange Legend of Arturo X
I am a doctor, it is true, and NERCO were always at pains to introduce me as such and never once alluded to the fact that I am a doctor of musicology and not medicine or biology or even ethnobotany. Yes it was music that took me first to the Amazonas region, the borderlands of Brazil and Peru, the deepest forest where the vomit songs were still performed each year at the sacred ceremonies, albeit fleeting and reduced, hemmed in by the mestizo miners and ranchers, though that has now changed with the new emphasis on acquiring and keeping land pristine and wild. After the pandemics and the collapse of cryptocurrencies, wilderness became the new store of value. Wild is the new organic, wild is the source of every new drug of the future; but the problem remains, as NERCO knows only too well, only the shamen knows which tiny pocket of the imaginary forest is the place to start looking…
By robert twigger5 years ago in Fiction
some notions of travel
I was five. I had already started school which was only two roads away. I went with my sister everyday yet I have no actual recollection of any part of the journey except once when I found a St Christopher medal stamped by accident into the fresh tarmacking of the road. I retrieved it with eager anticipation, joy even. Having a St Christopher- which all the Italian and Polish Catholic kids at my school did- was something I most dearly wanted. And now I had my own. The patron Saint of travellers had bewitched me before I even knew it. But the medal belonged to a beautiful silent boy called Ricardo who I adored- in fact by the kind of amazing coincidence that characterises normal life it was his medal, the one that I had for so long coveted, so I had to give it back to him and so I never got one, not even now.
By robert twigger5 years ago in Confessions
