Life is on Bello's terms right now. He does what he pleases, when he pleases, and with whom. Although the whom remains a mystery because when he's doing his thing, he prefers me not to come. Like, for instance, the other day when I was hanging my show and I looked down and found the floor unoccupied. Apparently he had spent the last hour cruising on Alberta Street while people strolled and window shopped. Apparently when I'm busy is when he feels free to "step out". Most of the time this is just annoying and kinda gross considering what he finds out there. But not scary. Not dangerous. Yesterday was different. I really could not find him. I walked, I biked, I drove a wider and wider range, calling, hooting and clapping my hands. I checked the college, the high school and the alleys because I know that's where the best treats are. No Bello. No Bello for hours! I finally "found" him two blocks from home. Suddenly there he was, head down, ambling along. I pulled up in the car and vomited his name: BELLO! loudly, forcefully, gutterly, choking on my rage, fear, relief and desire to touch his little face. I folded over him, kissed his eyes and his smooth nose and then loaded him into the mini van and drove around the corner to our house. My tears seemed to have made an impact. He looked concerned. But I am not confidant enough to recycle the flyers. I don't like life on Bello's terms! It is slower and stinkier and makes me feel left out.