Harry the Frog.

I first met Harry the Frog on a message board called the Zen Shed in 1999.  He was the moderator and each week we would all contribute to a Renga poem.  Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia:

In Japan a renga starts with a hokku of 5-7-5 sound units by one of the guests - usually the most honored or experienced. This is followed by the second verse of 7-7 sound units, called the waki (脇^?, "side"), and then by the third verse of 5-7-5 sound units, called the daisan (第三^?, lit., "the third"). The next verse will be 7-7 sound units, and this pattern is repeated until the desired length is achieved. It is common in English to use forms that show the number of the verse, how long it is to be, whether the moon or flowers should be mentioned, when one author takes two links at once. Since the renga of different lengths have different schemes for how many verses are given to each season and non-seasonal verses, it is easiest to use one of the available forms so that everyone understands and follows the same program.

Harry always made sure the waki got along with the daisan.  He was keenly adept at maintaining the peace between the two.  When Harry first arrived in Australia, which he claimed was in the 1960's, he had the good fortune of coming across a book of haiku in an old thrift shop.  This particular book was imbued with a subtle and mysterious energy.  When read in a certain sequence, each haiku revealed a modicum of universal truth.  As his understanding grew, he began practicing the art of restorative food preparation and taught the craft to only two people.  Those two people must remain a hidden secret, far from the clammy paws of consumerism.  Rest assured though, two people learned from his lessons, and those two people agreed to teach two more.  He would tell you that maybe Tracy Bayntay might be one of those, but then he'd grin and you wouldn't know for sure.

The Zen Shed was our virtual hangout where we practiced such a cool and interesting activity like renga.  Therein lies the same issue, what constitutes reality?  Harry would say reality does, even if you call it something else like telephonic or jamboree.  He has a knack for being witty and nonsequitor.

One of the best cooking secrets he shared with me was, nevermind.  But he did share several and among them was a cilantro pesto.  The trick was in gathering the right ingredients though, something that takes far more effort than most busy lifestyles allow.  Price one pays for quickness.  Harry recommends growing as much food as you can, while initiating a Meowyum chant and listening to your favorite music, as long as it has gamelan, such as used by Solace, in it.  The rules for cultivating such unbelievable results with food are specific yet a certain ambiguity resides in interpretation and application.  Like most things.

Harry inspires Winston to compose haiku while practicing his mime gig.  He explains that haiku expands the mind because it is so seemingly simple in form and so complex in nature.  Harry likes the idea of expanding the mind.  He considers himself a future primitive shaman, at least that's what he calls it.  He says food is alchemy.  He says he used to practice alchemy back in the day but never said when that was.  The enigma of his life is something that is at once shocking and soothing.  He does seem like he's been around the block a few times.  One of his morning rituals involves steeping a pot of chai tea.  Contrary to the opinions of many, there are not infinite recipes for chai tea, explains Harry, if anything there is only one perfect way to do it, and that's for you to figure out.  One of his many kooky practices. 

So Winston connects with a new friend from the Netherlands who wants to compose music for spoken word.  Winston tells him that it might be a perfect idea to collaborate.  Just another day at The Ionic Spell collective, thinks Winston. Pupito hooks him up with a virtual tour of the virtual space. Harry the Frog looks on and nods as he hands Winston a glass of Numanthia Toro.