Category Archives: collages 2d

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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And then…

… Colorado to end, an enlargement from the past. ‘Nother one.

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00420316 (two straight shooters)

After he improbably made one himself (he didn’t have his glasses on for one thing) he went up to the board to take a closer look at the resulting hole. For a brief moment, he went “inside.”

“Ah, I think I see what you mean about the bullsear, Dragon. I think I see what you mean, heh.”

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00420315

“Hucka D., there’s no doubt that this newer and truer Aisle of Palms in the same named town is connected to our Fal Mouth Moon animation. There’s even an equivalent of Steptoe Butte there in the background if we extend our draw distance to 512 and then shorten it back to 128 and take a photo before the landscape shortens again in turn. Mount Chinhae we can call it, after the sim it is situated on the lower end of. Sacred after this I would suppose.

“Fascinating. Keep it up.”

“The bar with the red rooftop to the left, like the dart in the collage is red tipped. Tipping allowed after all in the bar.”

“Tone it down a bit,” Hucka D. requested to this. “Focus on the *obvious*. What are we looking at?”

“Jack’s bar, obviously. (Bull’s) Ear for a target (name), but we had to settle on Bar since we couldn’t get the needed lights in the ‘B’ to stop functioning and turn it into an ‘E’ — shame.”

“We’ll work on it,” said Hucka D.

“So instead the dart turns into a cigarette or cigar which may be the same as a joint. This indicates that Jack is smoking hot. Icily cold later on. After the process is finished. The ear is removed from the side of the mountain revealing Lloyd the bartender for who is really is. The fuse on the bomb is lit. The color inverted VW, yellow at the beginning, speeds on to its destined destination.”

“Boomb! Bullsear!”

“Should be,” agreed Hucka D., already hatching more plans to make it so.

“What did you just call what you did, Dragon? Bulls-*what*?”

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00400411

“Definitely silver,” he rechecked through the past observing tool locally known as the chronovishmach. “So definitely George.”

—–

In the past, Hucka Doobie was eating alone. But in this alternate version she had the guts to walk up to Marion Star Harding and ask him on a date. Just after this she continued her guttiness and told Ozzie Osbourne, another star, that his gig was up in Gaston and that he’d have to return to Meat City for future concerts like these. Still on an adrenaline rush she goes back to Marion at the bar and gives him a kiss full on the lips, saying that’s to tide him over until tonight. Just arrived Ketchup Tom, aka The Musician (aka *George*) walks into the club, wanting to check everything out while Marsha was unloading the car, especially the structure of the place, trying to determine if his music would collapse it like before with that huge piece of coal for a bar in West Virginie. Hucka Doobie assured him that all had been prepared and that a non-collapsing spell had been cast by a local wizard. Club Rhino: definitely at a crossroads between various dimensions. Why Hucka Doobie was here in the first place, she finally determined after much lamenting and gnashing of teeth about her “entrapment” in Gaston. “Damn you Tammy Whatammy!” she cursed aloud a lot at first. “Damn you evil, conniving Casey One Hole!”, the root person to blame since Tammy was just following orders when she pushed her through that imprisoning collage back in photo-novel 7. Such a long time ago. She knew alternate versions of herself existed elsewhere. But she only existed within the body, the *vessel* of this here one. And she’s tired of complaining about the darkness. “When in Rome,” and so on.


“When in Rome” (2018)

And so in this version she dines and drinks with Marion Harding instead of doing so alone. And other things have changed: no “Welcome to Mimosa” on the sign, you’ll notice in comparing the last photo of this here blog post with the one above, anything that was once golden having been lost in the transition. Silver now. Night. Dark. Welcome to Gaston.

“We better get to the gig,” Marion requested after 2 wines, hoping to move to his more standard pot soon. Levon would have some, he knew. And Levon liked his music over his money, women, anything else. He’d be at the gig for sure.

“Oh,” said disappointed Hucka to this, wishing they’d just skip to whole gig thing and move on to that other stuff she had in mind. Bases, although obviously safe at home still — home base is definitely off limits tonight. But 1st, maybe 2nd? In play, she envisioned in her mind. Was she still desirable? she couldn’t help wondering as Marion got up and she followed suit and then looked at the back of his suit as it made pleasing motions while he walked toward the Rhino.

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light and shadow (The Z’s)

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now

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00390212

Not yet (*sip*).

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“Doorpick”

“User,” he said, pointing. He knew who I was. Did I? Am I still Baker Bloch in the game we play that is Our Second Lyfe? Is that my primary avatar still?

Anyway, thanks to Pearl Grey for including this work in her most recent Wanderlust Art Truck show! Pearl’s blog here:

https://millionhappyendings.wordpress.com/

And you can teleport directly to the exhibit here:

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Ashenlave/199/61/63

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sleepwalking

heading inside for more boos (part 2 I suppose)

—–

“We ended up at the exact same spot we began,” spoke Hucka D., suddenly finding herself back on the bed beside Barry. “Exactly the moment we decided to leave!”

Barry checked his pants but he was okay. This was no dream. Not really. Not any more than anything else they’ve experienced since this here photo-novel began, 37 in a series.

Then he forgot everything, the whole trip to Lordsburg/Shakespeare. It is as if the text at the bottom of the state never existed; no subtitles. Nor the top for that matter (Brilliant again). Only middle now. Barry DeBoy was on his own again, Hucka D. choosing not to take part in this reality. His mother as well. There was no reason for him to stay.

(to be continued)

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