Humberto Humberto (Peruvian, 1945 - 1967) // Llamita, 1966 // Laser print. || Llamita, light of my life, fire of my fur. My steed, my soul. Lla-mee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of two steps to tap, at two, on the teeth. Lla. Mi. Ta. She was La, plain La, in the morning, standing five hands tall in the dawn dew. She was Llama at the fair. She was Mita in the barn. She was Mammal #817 on the dotted line. But between my legs she was always Llamita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Llamita at all had I not bought, one summer, a certain initial alpaca-baby. On a farmstead by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Llamita was bought as was my age that summer. You can always count on an agronomist for a fancy plough style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the horses, the misinformed, simple, noble-hooved horses, envied. Look at this tangle of wool.