Iguana Dance

Iguana Next Door, by John Barbato

When I went into prison in Ixcotel in October of 2003, I didn’t go alone. John was dragged with me. And old Joe (RIP), who spent the whole time in the hospital because he had a hole in his chin from throat cancer.

They cut John’s curly pony tail and shaved his beard. I hardly recognized him, except for the smile that somehow, rarely disappeared. It was forced in prison. It was crooked. It was sardonic and sarcastic and salty in prison. But John is a smiler. He has a good handle on the magic out there.

Take a look at his paintings by clicking on his name above. Bet you feel like you stepped outside of your life for a bit. And into a world of possibilities that allows for mermaids on the beach and pink-lipped iguanas.

It’s a good place to spend some time.

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