Later as the story developed all the usual fun stuff came on stage. Demons, the Buddhist Mafia, shape changing, gay unwed daddies, and robbing mob casino’s to feed the poor. All that comes later when our hero, and his boyfriend become teenager’s.

However for now I hope you’ll enjoy the the early stuff. Btw the drawing above is of a t-shirt that I designed for my radio show. The listeners love my Timmy, and his stories. Especially when he got older When he, and his sweetheart became gay teen anarchist Robin Hood’s.

‘But that’s a whole other story. Well, lets begin at the beginning…

Once upon a time there was a boy that was half Angel. Now this boy this half Angel lived all alone in a hut. A hut made of autumn leaves, and bright hopes. This is a boy, a child of light that dance’s under the moon, and can hear the stars sing. This half Angel child is Timmy Tom, and he lives in the Blue Desert. 

These stories, and dreams take place in the Blue Desert. A desert that blooms. You wonder how can there be woods streams flowers, and fields of grass among dunes, and stone. Dolphins, and whales that fly, stars that sing or Angels that bless? They are where G-d put them, and that’s good enough for me.

GIFTS
Being part Angel Timmy was born with special gifts. Not only can he fly, but he  also hears souls. he hears their songs. Every living creature has a soul, and every soul has songs. These songs tells the story of the person, says who they really are. Timmy Tom can hear these songs. One can if you listen deeply hear creation sing.

SONGS
One of the happiest times are summer nights. When all the stars of the eternal heavens sparkle down. Timmy Tom has counted many of them, and they too sing. They sing anthems of the joy of being.
Timmy Tom lives, and loves all that is around, and within him. This is enough for Timmy. He is in the World, and to him the World is Good.


DREAMS
As a soul’s songs says who a person is. A soul’s Dreams say what they want to be. That’s why people see Angels in Dreams. They’re watching, and sometimes they guide.

Timmy Tom dreams.
Timmy once dreamed that he was a tree. He dreamed that he could feel his roots growing deep into the world. He could feel his leaves, and his thick bark. He could sense birds nesting in his trunk. Timmy Tom could feel the wind, and rain as it blew through his branches.

Another time he dreamed that he was a wild grey rabbit in the underbrush. Leaping through wide grassy fields. Then later resting with his family in a warm cozy warren.

LIFE
Half Angels are mortal. They live long, very long lives, but like cats, and ladybugs,…they die. So Timmy wondered about growing old.

Timmy Tom looked ahead. He closed his wings over his face, and saw the future. His future. He was in a strange land. He was sitting beneath a tree in spring bloom, but he was old. Very, very old.

He listened to his soul his future self, and felt joy. He was old, yet happy to be so. Happy to have been blessed with so much life. His wings parted. The years fell away. The sun was shining, and a warm wind blew from the blue dunes.

SEASONS
Time pass’s. The sun, and moon have chased each other through the seasons. From ice to thaw to bloom to fall. Autumn has come again to the Blue Desert.

The half Angel sat beneath an ancient oak. The wind blew carrying the last of summer’s leaves, and the first of fall’s chill. The sky was a pale rose. Clouds shaped like ponies galloped overhead trailing flaming leaves as they went.

Another season of light was coming to an end. All of the creatures of the Blue World prepared for short days, and cold nights. While Timmy sat his friends the sprites appeared. These gentle beings rejoiced in every season.

These beings were smoky wisps of amber green, and red. They first showed themselves as a mist of those shifting colors. Then separated into their individual selves. Bright  puffs of light danced about the little Angel.

Happy living sparks poked about his wings, tickled his nose, and flew around his head making a halo. Such kindly knowing beings.
Timmy the half Angel child closed his eyes. He lost himself in the Blue Desert’s woven prayers of wind, leaves, and distant hints of first snow.

THE MUSIC BOX
Timmy loves snowy days. At such times it seems as if all the world is in quiet reflection. The rabbits in their burrows the bears in their caves, the dragons atop their mountains, and Timmy Tom in his warm hut of bright hopes.

Outside the wind sculps snow into delicate drifts. Inside the young half Angel was curled in front of his little fireplace. He watched as the sparks flew, and danced above the logs.

The burning embers became tangles of birds in summer, trees swaying in the wind sand spouts in the far desert. Once Timmy saw the sparks become a ship. A sleek brigantine with great white sails emblazoned with moons, and shooting stars.

These fire visions, would sometimes move him to retrieve his most treasured possession. The music box. This beautifully carved, and enchanted instrument was from his Mother the Angel of the Northern lights.

Carefully Timmy took the box from its place, and set it before the hearth. He then sat down spreading wide his Raphael wings. He turned the key lifted the lid,  and listened.

If rose’s could sing this would be their song. If honeydew melons could recite this would be their voice. If spring grass could chant this would be their prayer.
As snow danced with the winds. The half Angel sat, and listened as the embers created world, after world.