Monthly Archives: April 2024

00420607 (05 and 06)

Perhaps the last major building has been manifested in Aisle of Palms: the original version of the Edwardston Station Gallery, holding the entire “Art 10×10” of 100 collages I created in 6 series from 2004 to 2009. Not the prettiest of structures with its plain cubic form, admittedly, but effective in its role. 6 floors, 6 series, with all but 2 and 5, or Rose Hill and Hidalgo respectively, holding 20 collages apiece. Those 2 floors/series contain 10 in contrast. I’ll get to what occupies the other 1/2 of the 2nd and 5th floors in a bit.

The immediate prompt for me rezzing this structure is that I wanted to show Newt (or whoever) that the fox-to-dog conversion of Jim Randolph the Bastard Pirate in St. Dennis recently was seemingly preordained. The Yale-*Newt*on series of the “Art 10×10,”  its 3rd, dates from 2006, going on 20 years ago at this point. Gosh, where have the years gone (!). Anyway, when we reach the 4th collage of that series we come to this dualism again: fox vs. dog or, more precisely, fox against dingo, for the orange dog of the work, titled “Outfoxed?”, is suppose to represent such, as the orange-ish dog in St. Dennis is in kind.

Then in the next two collages of Yale-Newton, making a type of animation with each other, we see the fox and dingo again, the in-taking of water if you will (“Diamond Dog”)…

… and then the release of same back into the atmosphere (“Coasts is Clear”), as the original Diamonds sign on the roof of the depicted restaurant bearing the same name is multiplied 16-fold and becomes a country unto itself, let’s say — our country, built up from the middle, this Diamonds Restaurant in a central state of Missouri, until it extends ocean to ocean. A seed becomes a tree.

And then in the next collage, the 7th of the series (“Here’s Lucy”), we come to another depiction of the word “diamonds”, now in connection with the initials LSD like in the famous John Lennon song we saw Shelley Struthers singing earlier in her band audition at Bull’s Bar in this here blog and attached photo-novel, 42 in number now of course. So I have a feeling this could reference Osamu Sato’s LSD Dream Emulator game on top of the drug and Lennon song — additional foreshadowing. More on this aspect soon, I’m predicting.

That bubble topped mound in the middle of the 7th collage being threatened by bulldozers is actually where it all starts to kick in, the whole “Art 10×10” and my journey into the world of digital collaging. Looks like fellow collage artist Barry De Boy will be our observer here instead of Newt, perhaps gaining inspiration for a jump start of his own art. Wendy is a muse!

He follows The Beatles’ yellow submarine between Greenup 05 and 06 as it floats downstream, into the tunnel of night lights, illumination in darkness.

What will he find there, a fox or a dingo? I’m guessing both. In fact, make that a certainty.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0607, Big Woods, collages 2d, ESG, Jeogeot, Lake District, LSD, Natural World, United Kingdom

00420606 (you *rock*)

She fell asleep on the booring booring job and came out to the town’s mall.

“… 28 (touch), 29 (touch), *30*,” and then the Vegetable Man, the guy made entirely out of edible plants, was done with his exercise. He turned his multi-textured green head toward gatekeeper Wendy in front of her station. “Join me next time,” he said, and was gone. Wendy woke up at her desk and realized Okama had contacted her in a different way. Perhaps he’s not bad after all, she pondered. Perhaps he is only trying to *help*. She thought about that the rest of the working day — no visitors to greet today; typical — and came to another conclusion for supper. No red meat; *not* typical.

“I’m proud of you, hun,” spoke Barry from his chair, knowing it was the healthy way to go. Now if they could just get rid of the blood stains, hmm. Karma’s a bitch.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0606, Castle Town, Omega^^

00420605 (immobile (paying the price))

Day 042:

I manifested on an island in the void I couldn’t move away from — no bridges — so I took a picture before the dream ended. Crystal (at the peninsula’s tip). Have to look that up.


Yes, there it is. I’ll just place a little (red) pin on that island to remember…

—–

“Remember what?” Wheeler tested later, looking at the pin with him.

“I… forget!”

“Gray Man, hmph,” exclaimed Wheeler to this. “Wiped you out again. You’ll have to start over.” She looked at him instead of the map to emphasize her point. “Stick to The Natural World as much as possible, Newt. He doesn’t go there. You won’t be as, um, *abstracted* there.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“Now sit back down here and let’s begin Day 043 while I watch and advise.”

“Alright.” He sits back down like a good boy.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0605, Big Woods, Bright Moon Cottage, Jeogeot, LSD, Natural World

00420604

“Ain’t got time for you, boy.” But the dog had something to say, something to tell. For he was the animal that the fox had become… just after getting run over by that streetcar he was following too closely. Last gasp effort before death: switch to another body. He was surprised he still had the power. But he did.

“I said *git* Red.” The dog bit the bottom of his pants, tugged at them. Arthur was tempted to kick the mutt but hesitated. He looked down. Same red as the fox. “Bastard?” he tried, feeling himself foolish at the same time. The dog heeled, seemed to smile at him while wagging his tail.

“Bastard!” The dream finally ended, longest of the night. Back to day thinking. Newt was forgotten, night was over. He had to find Dutch and try to explain to him what happened. Would Dutch listen? Probably not in this day and age. The Age of Enlightenment, Arthur thought derisively. Fat chance. Where are the powers of the Dark Ages when you need them.

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00420603

The fox is dead, Arthur realized while looking to the left on the same walk. Something had happened. Think Arthur, think!

He was in the tunnel again, light at the end once more. But different. White, not yellow. Different planet, he realized. Newt, he recalled. Something about Newt.

He turns left instead of right, thereby avoiding the dead fox.

Choices, he pondered. It’s all about the choices we make.

—–

Into the clotheslines!

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00420602 (rockstars)

On his days off, Grant (aka *Fred*dy) Price likes to roam the streets of Lost Sanos, sucking up people’s dreams to replenish needed energy for his various security assignments. This unsuspecting guy walks right into it.

Meanwhile, on another planet altogether (most say), Arthur sees horses at the end of a tunnel.

“We got a second one!” shouts Newt from beyond the 4th wall as Arthur reenters the light.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0602, Big Woods, Bright Moon Cottage, GTA, Jeogeot, LSD, Natural World, RDR2

00420601 (Castle Town)

He often came here to rock and think about the battle of rock vs. paper vs. scissors, which for him was won by putting paper (1) before scissors (2) before rock (0). 102 if read left to right, with rock always in the center like the ground zero it is.

He hears a noise outside. It’s 3:25 in the morning — no one else up, he imagined. Except ghosts.

He stops rocking, gets up, leaving the maple leaf throw pillow behind and thoughts of Canadian Picturetown along with it. “Who goes there?”

The right Wendy walks through the door of the establishment…

… with her first words inside being: “This entrance has changed.”

It certainly has, thinks Barry De Boy, very happy at the sight. It certainly has. No demo over her head now; he was seemingly dealing with a real flesh and blood girl again. They can… well, you know. This is what boys think. Boys like De Boy.

“The gatekeeper said I’d find you down here. Said it was his last night to work, the last hour, the last minute. Said he was here for me and then he could go. He put a Help Wanted sign on the door as he locked up behind me. I turned around just in time to see him leave. Go figure. Guess I’ve found my work in town after all.”

“Wendy!” he exclaimed, not knowing how to follow it up. Shock!

“In the flesh.” She twirled around, showing him the different dress. “And blood I suppose, ha.” She approached him. Dare she kiss him this early? It’s been years after all. Instead: “Share a cup of coffee with me?” She tweaked him on the nose, a sign of things to come.

“Of course! Over there,” he pointed to a nearby table. “I’ll find the brew.” He started rummaging around the back of the counter. “As you can see, we’ve also turned the tables to the side.”

“We?”

“Yeah, Me and Grumpy. We run the place now. Or manage it — Stew’s still the owner. Technically I suppose.”

“So no jobs I suppose,” Wendy spouted as she took a seat. She so so didn’t want to be the new gatekeeper of the town. Boor-ing, she knew. She’d heard Devil Dave complain enough about it back in the day.

“No… sorry. Can’t can Grumpy, you see. He has a wife and two children now (!).”

“Who could have imagined.”

“I know.” He’d found the coffee. Now to make the concoctions. “Espresso alright? All I can find.”

“Yeah. Perfect, actually. Make mine a double. No… triple. What the heck, let’s go with 4.” Could be a long night, she knew. Lots of restaurant talk to get through, potentially. Lots of talk about success and then failure. Utter failure. All tests show 5% human DNA, PHEH. I’ll get that Okama Majo, she thought. If it’s the last thing I do.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0601, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Castle Town, Omega^^

00420516

“Yes can I help you?” she vocalized, not turning toward the visitor, not bringing any energy into her words.

“Wendy??”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0516, Castle Town, Omega^^, Southern

00420515 (centerpoint)

“Honey, get out of the shot. I’m trying to take a picture of that ghost over there!”

—–

“So this is where we’re going,” Mabel said to Teebestia, who had removed her mask since the facade was dropped, like water off a duck’s back.

“We *all* do,” the mechanoid rattled. “Eventually.”

“Riight.” Mabel was pondering how to get out of this. Really hard (!). “What happens when I wake up? I mean, when I get to the other side.”

“You’ll see your brother,” Teebeestia spoke plainly. “Reunited at last.”

I must be dreaming, thought Mabel. She goes to the edge, stares down into the hole, sees light at the bottom, way way down. She’ll be killed, yes. But the light will take her, swallow her. (Almost) all water removed. Just like a mechanoid. There will be little remorse for a life lived fully, quietly, in contemplation on the world at large. *Worlds*.

“Soo… this is how you got to be who you are.”

“Yes,” Teebeestia clipped rapidly. Death was good for her. She had a diseased heart, a diseased mind. The hole was a way out.

Mabel looked around the landscape for perhaps the last time. So much had changed about the Dawg Pound since their childhood, growing up with Winnfield — happy happy days. But the Cleveland Rocks up there remain. Perhaps, at least in part, as a memorial for Little himself, she imagined, the last place she saw him before he was taken. By the Universe. The mechanoids at least do that for him while shifting around everything else. She can’t really blame them, though. Climate change, she knew. “Oh, Little,” she lamented. “What have your Green-Gray Wars done?”

She shifts her attention back to the hole. Taking a deep breath… she jumps.

The bones rattle on.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0515, Google Street View, Mars^^, Texas

00420514 (Asylum?)

She sat at the bar nursing a tall cool glass of lemonade while waiting. Risky to come back here of course, but she had to take the chance. Potential information about her brother! After all these years.

Bartender Ricki Bendicky didn’t seem to recognize her — good. 052 class mechanoids like her sometimes have leaky memories, drippy recollections. Like a faucet they could even run dry if left on too long. And that’s what Mabel was hoping. For a reboot here on the red planet… *not* dead but alive with fauna and flora unique to the universe.

“Slow night tonight, it seems,” she tested. No immediate answer; does the mechanoid even recognize where she worked? Mabel pondered. Is she just programmed to served drinks in this out-of-the-way establishment and that’s that? No RAM for barroom banter, as they call it, no ability to even direct customers to the bathroom? She’s heard of such stripped down types.

But then: “I expected someone older.” Dang, Mabel thought. Spotted!

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