Available for Sale
Escort of Kings Volume 1, Woman, Artist, Mystic
Excerpt from the Bordello chapter 2 in my first book:
My artistic eyes scanned every inch of the room. Such a spectacular place, mostly red, and right in front of a lengthy bar sat a sassy blonde on a bar stool. A male proprietor appeared, formally dressed in a suit. He had the body of a bouncer. Looking past us he remarked, “Are all those people with you? No one else in your party can enter. It’s private.”
“Please,” I pleaded, “Let me stand inside. I’m an artist. I want to record these images. I have to paint this view. I’ve never seen a real bordello. It’s marvelous! “In perfect English, his curt voice spat, “I’ll give you both a few minutes. Then you’ll have to leave.” I turned to David and grinned, then put my hand over my mouth and looked away; when I looked back, David was eyeing the blonde at the bar.
I wondered how few women have ever had this opportunity and then remembered that most famous brothel paintings were created by male artists. In that moment, I fantasized being the Toulouse-Lautrec of the 20th Century, waiting to paint these images from a woman’s point of view.
Later, I recorded in my journal a few remembrances:
A veiled blonde half-dreamed in lace
Is seen at Monica’s on the way to your place.
As side streets take you to the house of fire
Where men become men with Lot’s desire.
Dark rooms guide you as your feet trace the hall
Where a woman’s perfume flows through each wall.
Colored scents pass through her hair
Night envelopes clothes on a chair.