"The resplendent quetzal", says Aaron, "Is native to the mountains of Central America and southern Mexico. They were held sacred by the Aztec and Maya. Only nobility and priests were allowed to wear their feathers. You might have seen Montezuma's feathered headdress, with all the long green feathers. Those are tail feathers of the resplendent quetzal. To kill one of those birds was a capital offense. So the priests would simply catch them live, pull out the two longest tailfeathers, then set them free. Traumatizing for the poor bird, but at least they didn't get killed."
"You could go professional and sell these", say I.
"I am a professional artist", Aaron says.
"yes, I remember"
"I used to paint a lot but I have so many canvases in my tiny apartment now that I have had to resort to drawing in sketchbooks."
"Have you sold a lot of your paintings?" I ask
"A bit more than a hundred. Over the years, I mean. I don't show anymore. It's too much work and too many problems, plus, if you don't get into a good gallery, your chances for success are going to be pretty limited."
Carl says, "And of course, you've already told me, Aaron, that in order to get into a good gallery, you first have to be successful. Quite a catch-22."
"In spades, baby. In spades."
"How long have you painted?" I ask. "I mean, I remember back at St. Jude's, you sold some art and that's how you paid for a trip to Costa Rica."
"It´ll be coming up to thirty years pretty soon. Well, I'm sixty-five now, and as an artist I got started pretty late in life. Hell, I was about to turn thirty-seven when I was given a well timed kick in the ass."
"How so?"
That was when a local artist told me to get moving. There's a bit of a story..."
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