Peacock Blue wishes to clarify once and for all that her name has little to do with vegetable matter and even less with genitalia, yet imagine going through life mistaken either for soup or a pecker! Such is the fate of Peacock Blue, who’s spent a lifetime in the jest of that name, the butt of jokes and the jibes of mean kids, ostracized and sidelined, obfuscated and undone, relegated to the coatroom with Billy Bush and Richard Everhard, Harry Cox and Doris Cooch, Peacock Blue dreams of a life of luxury, satin sheets perfumed with myrrh, emerald tipped wings and giant iridescent clouds, watery sunsets and moon-drenched rooftops, screaming into the wind for love.

In her day-dreams she flies over ancient ruins and fantastical neon cities, catapulted headlong through the empty sky, then buoyed up again suddenly onto the air-streams. For too long Peacock Blue has fought to rise above the din of slurs, to realize her own potential — to beautify herself at the avian altar of the Great Memorable flyers in history – famous birds like Daffy Duck, Toucan Sam and Mockingjay, Hedwig, the snowy owl and Edgar Allan Poe’s ubiquitous raven. Even flightless birds like the long gone under Dodo and the small but mighty Kiwi of New Zealand, captivate her imagination, inspiring her to even greater luxuries to pursue the most picturesque landscapes in the world from London to Burma, Belize to Cape town, Shri Lanka, to the sultry rainforests of Brazil.

Peacock Blue will one day overcome the unfortunate constraints of her name, and once and for all leave behind the pallid and sickening green of the Pea and the fleshy, inscrutable Member to transform into the royal Blue Angel of the skies, fanning her tail of all-seeing eyes and confounding even the deep, magisterial night with her splendor.