WHO AM I?


 

I am Leandro Sorice.

My story begins in the late winter of 1987 when my mother and father found themselves converge in a moroccan steam hut. Letting their hearts pound, and their natures play god within the bounds of their mortal capacities; they made space for little me to take part in the race of races. Knowing I would have superior paddling power if I joined forces with my alter Ego, Charlie Nibbles, I was convinced to share a vehicle - the first host on a journey to earth. So we loaded, blended, twisted, and molded our souls into one double fire blazingly wiggle-some human tadpole - and into the oasis of storm and fire we went - at top speeds - leaving the pathetically slow waddling pond scum of potential brothers and sisters behind... 

Nine months later. on march 20, 1988 a charlie nibbles is born...

From the beginning we were exposed to the polarities of the world. our father, a hot blooded, steamy eyed italian man, and our mother a warm hearted, straight headed german woman, there was bound to be some reverse combustion. with two cultures as similar as cream and lime, - it is no surprise that the product of their collision was destined to cultivate some kind of inherently curdling internal opposition... 

 I was alternately raised by six mothers, (my father had quite an annual set of girlfriends) and two fathers as alike as sodom and gomorrah, but together they caused such a ruckus in my biological developmental that nurture was forced to join forces with nature to find at least a fraction of balance of a normal child. the incubation that would make charlie a fully conscious parallel lasted about 7 years. well into my 8th year of life, on a cold frosty sunday morning, after having barefootedly retrieved the eggs out of the henhouse, and milked the last droplets from the neighbors cow, i was met with a sudden internal urge.

The only live audience nearby was a dozen anxious chicken, a salivating brown dog, and a pony named hans hermann. they witnessed the first explosively expressive performance of charlie - eyes blazing, teat clenching, face morphing into a crookedly sinister smile until a screech of excitement burst from his and my lips. the rush of life, blazed through my fingers, and into the skin of henrietta. she moaned bashfully, shuffled awkwardly backwards, and stepped right into the bucket of freshly squeezed milk, spilling it's contents all over my face and neck. charlie always had a knack with animals...  

dripping with warm lactation, i walked home through the misty gray darkness. with an empty bucket and a wide stretching smile on my face i stepped back inside the house mumbling. "charlie? was that you?"

 He didn't answer, but a few weeks later, at the breakfast table my parents announced, "we are leaving the farm! we are moving to america!

i was so excited i told everyone at school! "i'm going to america! to become a real star!!" though i expected a spike in popularity, and perhaps a bit of admiration, what i got was a punch in the face, and a kick in the knee by mathias schwarz, the stubbiest and most wide waisted flat nosed bruiser of the year...

 

 

i'd been an awkward and sloppy. i wore soccer shoes with cleats to school, and didn't wear socks. i wore my hair long, my pants tight, and high on the waist. i was a killer goalie, but terrible at ping pong.  but charlie wouldn't have it. "you can try to deny it" he said. "but i have decided, once we have ignited we'll be the lions... and they'll be the sheep!"

a week later we were on a plane to america. charlie believed we would be immediate sensations the moment we landed. he expected big city lights, camera crews, and big time hollywood blockbuster movie offers. we were to becoming instant super stars! we had it in our blood. or charlie did anyway... 

 

instead we moved to, boonville california, a town of roughly one thousand residents. a beautifully wild place really, with creeks, and hills, and dusty roads. but not a place from which to conquer the world.

so we decided to put the dreams on hold, and to explore this new world of sunshine, lizards, and tall trees. our neighbors were strange smelling, whisky drinking, fried bean out of a can eating cowboys. they smoked a lot and laughed in hoarse voices. although this was far from what charlie expected to find in america - he shifted his pupils, and turned a keen eye toward the characters of this wild western world.

 

 

there was an abundance of flavor, of color, and texture in these parts. they weren't as clean, or as formal as the germans - but they were brave, loyal, dirty, wild, and wonderfully ill-behaved. real americans they were! like in the movies! the neighbors had a grand daughter named jessica, and a son named chad. jessica and chad ewing, were the wildest children charlie had ever seen. we sprinted down valleys, through creeks and through old people's homes. we stoles cds, and made pb and js - the first of it's flavors in the buds of our minds. we caught lizards with long straws of grass, we caught fish with a string and a hook, and we caught ticks by the scent of our skin. the local hunters, catchers, and ranchers were fascinated. i didn't speak english, but their garbled mumbles and grumbles, bumbling from mouth to ear to the backdrop of the frogs in the mossy ether all around was more than i could have asked for in a newfound language. i took in the sounds like musical candy, chewed it, tasted it, loved it and and waited for a pattern to form. before long i was stringing things together like, "don't disturb me." and "because i want to"

 

 

as the years passed, english became a simple smack of the of the tongue. charlie and i played baby bear, and peter pan in local plays, and let the social dramatics of high school roll over and through us like jesus and hand grenades. we didn't admire, but we didn't duck and hide either. charlie just rarely externalized, and was never intrigued by the climbing of latters, but was rather silently fascinated by the learning of behavioral patterns... the patterns of superiority given by stages of class, popularity, and the natural power shifting functions of a teenage social apparatus.

"it's not worth it."  he'd say. "the weird kids, haley samas berry and khalil robinson and brooks schmitt, the watchers and listeners, are the people we need to find out and collect. the cool kids, the talkers and showers, will be sucked dry by the bees and bats of the climbing world. they will bloom and wilt like the ephemeral crown of a virginia bluebell. we need to be and find the cacti. the wild, the silent, and dangerously potent."

When I reached the age of 18,  I had graduated with top marks, blending with the systems of society like a good little pedestrian. charlie demanded it. but the moment we got our certificates - we scrubbed our life of cow stenched residue, packed our bags, and fled to ny with a “just you wait henry higgins” still steadily brewing in our boiler. charlie was ready to hit the big times now! he was ready to make his mark on the world! he was done waiting! "this is it!" he said, and walked right into img, the biggest and most reputed women's agency in the world. with his crown a blaze, his chest held high, and a blooming set of eyes reading, "take me away, i’m the star of the century! don’t you wait! if you let me walk out of here, it’ll be too late! you'll have lost the star of a millennium!”

 But as fate will have it, they did not “take us away” as charlie had hoped. instead they “sent” us away saying, "we're a women's agency. and we don't take walk ins!" but charlie said, "you can only feel sorry for them little brother! they don't know what they're missing." we were turned away by a few more, this time, men's agencies, until finally we came upon the smallest and most unlisted agency in ny.

Clive Leno. We got in.

Charlie didn't care it was small and unlisted. this agent had a passion for fashion and stuck to us like sticky fried pork so we gave him a chance, and he gave it back. that same month, we began traveling the world, spending 2-3 months for 4-5 years in many and most markets across europe, asia, and an eventual africa… until charlie became fed up with the crumbs of other people's extravagance and proclaimed in the middle of the night.

 

 “the adventure begins little brother - we were born with a belly full of eggs, and the wind at our backs. we stand on the edge of an upside down world ... it catches and drags, pulling us out into blinding blue ether of tightness and slack … the view is the best it's ever been… i no longer wish to be famously famous. i do however wish to grow famously old, and happy, and do what i love as opposed to do and believe whatever i’m told. to me that’s more of a dream worth living toward than widespread fame in an unwielding world - yet in a painting, in a picture, in a story untold - there are billions of letters and words to unfold. the people of the new world are just like those of the old, friendly with friends, hostile with foes, the further we go toward our american goal, the american dream, the american soul the deeper we sink toward alice and co, the corporation of dreams, the hole down which even the rabbit won’t go. but charlie may - low and behold."

yours truly,

charlie and co