Donna Darkwolf, Waltzing with Her Wolf

“Mercedes” WOLF's Anthem by Hans Zimmer. 'One Day' (From "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End"/Score), and "Mercedes Benz History" ex YouTube.
WOLF's engine start-up and our garage door
I never, ever had any Doubt.
My Shiny Wife - The Alert Pilot!

My personal rally driver, in the seat of her Mercedes-Benz A170 WOLF 888. Donna says without looking at me: "Let's never stop falling in love. Strap In!"
Icy Concentration. Steely focus. Perfect Control. At One with WOLF.
I edited music from a Mercedes-Benz documentary, and a commercial - to generate the 'mood' of Donna behind the wheel.

I put my edited track into the CD player, as she started WOLF, and I started my story / narration...

This is from a collection of writings that I wrote to Donna Darkwolf over the years.
I thought it necessary to include them to satisfy my own selfishness. And to provide my own insights of this most remarkable Spirit.

You are The Driver of My Heart – Donna Darkwolf

"I imagine us in a movie, Donna Mia...
The garage door opens.
WOLF noses his way out onto the road...
and sets off at a confident canter, seeking the freeway...
Once there... The hum of the engine turns to a throaty roar as you throttle UP!
Just me, you and the WOLF, chasing dotted lines in the dark, out here on the edge of crystal black sky, black road to somewhere.
We waltz through the dark, WOLF's eyes blazing our path
I am in the care of an Angel. I have no fear.
We are Stoned… Immaculate. I Just Wish..."

I can see the Needles climbing - almost to the Red Line.
Donna's face is as smooth as a cold marble carving.
Only her eyes move - scanning the roadway.

Fluid gear-changes, smoothe throttling, gentle on the wheel...
Donna is Waltzing with WOLF. In Love with WOLF. Loving her WOLF.

We are at 'Point Break'. I shout out over WOLf's growl
"DONNA! If we died here - WE will never know!
But We WILL know We Were LIVING!"


I later wrote this to Donna:
My love for you, my beautiful Donna Strega de Corazon requires that not one heart, nor one lifetime, could ever hold you.
In my hour of need, you were my trigger-happy saviour. My guardian Angel, my saving Grace.
La cancion de la Corazon Meo esta un estoria de amor.
The Song of my Heart, to You who held it as your own
Amado Cara Mi - Viniste a mi Vida. You came into my Life.

“If love does not recreate lovers – what good is it? Mi Strega d’amor”.

Why You? We both know that you are, for all your good humour… a no-nonsense type of girl.
Not given to too much poetry or allegory? Hmm? Then, consider this a test of your good humour.

"You like to drive fast? You're GOOD - NOW I am going to teach you to FLY!"

The Whole of Anything is Never Told

To love you is a Grace, Donna Ragazza. To marry you is a Contract.

No testimony is sufficient to establish a fantasy, unless - its falsehood would be more fantastic than the event which it endeavors to realize.

This could explain why so many of the girls/women in my paintings resemble a ‘you’ that I never knew – but have now discovered.

Donna, mine immaculate dream
Made breath and skin
I've been waiting for you
Signed with a home tattoo
Happy birthday to you
I was created for you
As you were created for me

Why Am I Telling You This Now?

Well, you will be the only person on the planet that I will trust, as you shall read.
I have a long time ago reached a place in my life where I Do Not Care for Convention.
I wish that I had been in this state of mind, there, 30 years ago.
Right now I do not know what to say to you. I do not know you well enough as I wish I do.
But that will be changing soon enough.
The “Vexvelt” Story and The “Visions on a Mud Ball” are provided for your Enlightenment and Edification.

At the very least you will know what you are dealing with.

Now would it not be nice to seize the pen away from experience and do the writing ones self, rather than as experience dictates.
Yes it does involve a lot of work with excursions into the countryside of the mind...flights over the cities of dreams, to map their locations.
And then visiting and revisiting them to SEE how they change: evolve and ultimately become renewed or die.

Such as Our Red Porcelain Ceramic Table Elephant

From India. Over-decorated with elaborate gold filigree and tassels.
All painted for Divali.
And the panequin on its world supporting back is finished off so that the whole is a table.
An elaborate decoration in porcelain, a symbol of an even more elaborate decoration as it is displayed on its real counterpart, who is itself a symbol of a more divine reality, or wisdom.

It is a monstrosity, this table. Or so to western sensibilities, who have not seen the monstrous elephant statues of Udaipur on the Lake Palace in Jag Mandir, or the White Elephant Gate at Chiang Mai.

This eternal elephant is one of the four that that support the four corners of the Universe – and they themselves are supported on the back of the infinite tortoise of time...
A’tuin as it swims slowly, gracefully - for it has done all the Time since Creation, carrying the Universe on its back.

Wisdom Takes Time
Wisdom travels on Time's back. Borne forward in a majestic procession of elephants that end up here finally, in the middle of my patio of black granite floors, that reflect the infinity of space.

Black as your hair, my love, and as deep as your Soul.
I watch Beauty walk naked across this black granite floor every morning for your breakfast
Fresh from your dreams, making my dream for me and totally unaware of the effect that you have upon my sensibilities, listening to you sing that age old song.
Sitting with Beauty, drinking coffee in the cool morning sun - Pure Joy!

Greenery all around. And a frozen crazed mystical / religious / hallucinogenic Red Elephant, lumbers inch by inch across the country side of intergalactic granite amongst my eclectic designed life-style styling.
What does he see, this as he marches across this strange universe, eyes fixed on a future unrealized, yet realizable.

What does he see? Does he see us? Or perhaps in his time dilating, light-speed dash, we appear as frozen as he.
In his 15 billion year march we are a blink of bright dust in the space black ink that Time writes with on the hearts and minds of us.

I never thought I would meet Her again - out on The Hot Sand...

She was white, like the sand
She was shimmering, like the sand
Solitary and Burning
- like the Sand

Of all that I survey
In every direction that I look
all there is,
is the Sand
Sand is all
And I am Master of this Sand


NEXT > Companion and Fellow Traveller

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