Category Archives: collage
This is a little different: the order of the collages in what’s now the second floor of the exhibit runs reverse from the first and the third. This was dictated by the nature of the collages themselves. More details later, but for now let’s join Baker Blinker and Baker Bloch taking a tour…
“That’s Precious Snowflake at the bunny related shop in Ohno. But I wasn’t asked to be there for the photo.”
“No, that’s me,” clarified Baker Bloch to Baker Blinker while staring with her at newly place Bogota Collage 11 in Castle Jack. “The important thing to get, or overarching thing, is that *this* collage is set in Ohno on the almost extreme *east* side of Snowlands. And then the collage immediately before this, called, let’s see, “You Must Have Patience,” is based on a photo of extreme *western* Snowlands. These two act as a frame.”
“Very interesting,” Baker emphasizes. “I had a tarot reading tonight by the (new) owner of the land in that slightly earlier collage, Baker Blinker. I won’t give out the name, only say that her initials involve the same letter — like us.”
“I know who it is,” Baker Blinker declared. “I go over there too while you’re not logged in.”
“Okay — didn’t know that but okay. Back to the tarot reading: it seemed almost identical to the one our user got in real life only several days back. The question posed?”
“Don’t say it,” Baker Blinker requested.
“Alright.” Baker Bloch paused. “But do you think *they* were contacting me — us — through Second Life. Reinforcing the original answer.”
“Of course, obviously.”
“Snowlands is being cleared. I will be giving up my rental in the (extreme) western part in a little over a week. I don’t see any reason to continue my rental, despite the tarot reading next door.
“Let’s go see it,” Baker Blinker proferred. “Before the deletion. I’ll show you what I know. We’ll go, let’s say, biking (!). When’s the last time we biked together?”
“Hey Baker…” Baker Bloch began asking Baker Blinker, now staring directly at her and away from the newest Bogota collage.
“Better name this one,” Baker Blinker said before he could finish his question, making the male Baker return his stare toward it.
“Hmm, what do you suggest?”
“Bigfoot,” Baker Blinker answered without pause.
“One points to the snow, the other to the big rabbit’s foot. Snowlands in toto.”
“And Bigfoot,” Baker Blinker reinforced.
“It’s a shame about Snowbob’s mother. Surely he knows, along with the father.”
“They know that she’s on assignment in Corsica, Old Mabel, and something has happened. Mr. Owens just came from Corsica and the sim in question.”
“I did. I just got information that I may not be returning,” spoke the chef/detective. “The filly I was tailing got wind of my investigation and set sail in the middle of the night. I may be staying here a bit longer than I planned. But the new mystery has got its claws in me now. It’s that book.” He pulled the stained slip of paper out of his pocket and opened it in Baker Bloch’s direction. “Pill,” he repeated. Baker Bloch could clearly see the word. It was the third time he had shown it to him. Yes, his interest was certainly piqued. “In the wine,” he added. “Wine,” he emphasized.
“Yeah, we’ve known something odd was going on (in that direction) for a long, long time Mr. Owens — Kenny. I might as well start calling you Kenny since you may be staying with us a while. The main question for now is: why did the giant female show up in the middle of the sim in question and play a game of roshambo with the tiny Minoan who is now Old Mabel’s good friend. Then why did that somehow open up a door or window or something into the place beside the motel you were staying in and allow (us) a glimpse into the firey death of Snowbob’s poor mother caused by this Jerome fellow. Who is Jerome T. Newton? He’s obviously a killer. Then there’s the burnt-to-a-crisp cow across Robin Lane.
“I’ll talk with the giant,” said Old Mabel, sitting on the floor between the two and still staring up at the newest Bogota collage, at its central Snowmanster and what might have been. Christmas. “She’s got a name, by the way: Brenda. Jiff — the tiny Minoan you speak of — and Brenda are friends.” More than friends she almost said, but decided not to reveal that whole story yet. So big and so small. How does that work? she asked herself yet again.
Kenny yawned and stretched his arms. “I guess I better head back over to Collagesity North and get some shut eye now; have to get up early for the interviews with Snowbob and his father. ‘Preciate you showing me around the galleries tonight. Weird I’m in them. I know more. I must digest.”
Goodnights all around after that, with Baker Bloch and Old Mabel remaining in front of the newly hung Bogota 08 as Kenny teleports downstairs.
“He knows too much,” said Baker to the Martian.