Once, in a land very far from here, a man crawled from the desert into the wreckage that had once been a town. The only sign of life he found in that town, aside from the amebic dysentery he caught from the well, was an infant wrapped in newspapers, with a strange birthmark on its back.
That infant was in no way related to Santos. But it makes for an interesting hook.
The first thing I noticed about Santos was probably his hair, and it sort of defined how I saw him for a long time. It was the sort of hair in which the combs of lesser men are doomed, and it probably granted him some of his powers. He seems to have calmed it down somewhat in the intervening years, which is probably best for the safety of those around him.
Santos struck me on occasion as being wary when it comes to people, and thatâ€™s still the case. Perhaps itâ€™s just around me that he gets that way, or perhaps his eyes just seemed to be hiding behind the power of his hair. I was somewhat startled when he made contact after a couple yearsâ€™ time to let me know heâ€™d written a thing about me. It was even more surprising to see the impression Iâ€™d left.
Santos is the sort of guy who will say a lot of things that are very interesting but are different from whatâ€™s on his mind. His manner is both brusque and bashful. His conversation is both piquant and pixilated. Heâ€™s better with people than he thinks he is, better with words than most visual artists can ever hope to be, and a better man than many other men and almost all women. He thinks about people a lot because he cares about people a lot, but one gets the feeling that he doesnâ€™t quite know what to do about them. I think I saw a girl hurt him once and this was the first time I realized how scary girls really are.
Santos has been nudging me for several days, somewhat nonchalantly but not very subtly at all, to write a blurb about him for his site. Really, though, the things he says about other people can tell you far more about him than any observations I might have made. If I had to leave you with a single metaphor, it would go like this:
The saber, from an epee point of view, is a weapon that is 90% flash and 10% substance. And Santos is really nothing like a saber.