It did not quite surprise me when these two made their appearance today, half way through the twelve nights, when mind and hand start to relax and thereby the line dances over the paper playfully and feels free to follow the imaginative mind: Don Quichotte and Sancho Panza. If you’d asked me which fictional character I would most identify with the answer would have to be Don Quichotte.

Though tonight’s version of the noble looser rather resembles a chimera, offspring by Typhon and Echidna, the mother of all monsters, a creature living and fire breathing, composed of multiple animals. Typhon, last son to Gaia, mother of all creation and creative forces. From Greek mythology to Cervantes 17th century parody to, I am sure, David Foster Wallace, the questions remain essentially the same: how to put together the fragments observed by a mind estranged from its own experience by the very act of narration, reassembling life very much like a chimera through a thousand eyes of literary characters and thereby celebrating the wondrous ability of humans to invent their own reality and then – quite bravely or quite cowardly but in all consequence – live in it.