Category Archives: Country Park

April 14, 2023 · 10:52 am

00370608

He is greeted in Heaven by the Man in the Middle, the Man About Time, some say. Just that damn important.

The knowledge and power of the center of it all, Fife to some, was drying up. Time to heal. Time to drive the Chevy to the levee, or at least a Dodge. Man About Time was waiting. On his heels drunk.

June 14, 2012 – the pond at Fife’s Grove Park. It has since been reconstructed.

The fated journey actually started here In Real Life, in the shadow of Pink Peak and exactly on the perimeter of the encompassing 1 square mile pink circle I’ve put around it. Shine is the place of the drinks. Brookshine, let’s say, a portmanteau of sorts, and with the trailhead of perhaps now inaccessible — because of the poison ivy and all — Mystery Gorge just beyond.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/19/00320507/

Once she was Alysha. He sighs, thinking of his former girlfriend, like if Thelma Lou left Barney for Sherriff Andy Taylor, attracted to the shine of the bigger badge. Another King over Bishop (or Rook) situation, then. Or a King’s Bishop anyhoot.

note: Throne House on the other side of Blue Mtn. from Pink Peak (place of Turtle Head) on this map my actually be Tyrone. Texas Pete. Gonna play with that.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/20/00320509/

“*Miss* Ouri,” Man About Time dutifully wanted to say but held his almost always mild tongue. No need to bring Texas Pete into this, his mama always said about verbal acidities. She trained him well; he absorbed everything he could from her. Poor Mama, he lamented. Hanging with the angels now.

And that’s about the last we see of Man About Time until now, speaking time-wise.

(to be continued)

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April 3, 2023 · 8:03 pm

4orrin1

To truly understand Mtn. Man we have to put ourselves in the middle of all the circles (All Circles, aka All Ears), in his place. The Orange Man descends to blue…

I believe he entered his original mountain, the start of it all… here.

And so shall we.

—–

“You didn’t even explain that the newest explored mountain, this Red Hill or Pink Peak or whatever — inside the 4th and largest circle — could be his *final* home.”

“I’ll get to that.”

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April 3, 2023 · 9:14 am

circles: the difference of a year

Last spring in background. This spring: foreground. Almost a square mile encompassed in a circle raised slightly to be exact (hence the 2 concentric circles, inner pink and outer red). Last spring’s circle, called Country Park, is 3.18 miles in circumference, so about 8/10ths of a square mile in contrast. Peak of finds in Country Park: the Monolith. Peak so far of new circle — think I called it Pink Hill. Or Red Mtn. — anyway, the peak so far is Turtle Head in combo with Campfire Rock just described in that last post here.

https://bakerbloch.com/2023/04/02/00370506/

Both parks also contain locations called Mystery, the newest one being Mystery Gorge, certainly a strange passage almost directly connecting Country Park with the top of Red Mtn./Pink Hill and its Turtle Head. That was also featured in a recent post called “Inside”.

https://bakerbloch.com/2023/04/02/00370504/

Must talk about Mountain Man. 1st encountered the *hammock* of Mtn. Man in City Park not far from my toy happening in the middle of last July called ALOHA. 2nd encounter was in County Park last September, and he’s actually mentioned in this post.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/09/13/00340511/

The story of County Park basically ends there, as another location I had my eye on for a toy happening was blocked — someone else was already present, a nice enough bloke but obviously living off the land. I knew where he lived; he was telling me that, albeit unconsciously in all likelihood, unless he was an alien himself, ha. He filled my space quite effectively. He, in all likelihood, needs it more.

Soo. Fast forward to this March. 3rd encounter, let’s call it. And then a 4th the next day. For this guy, this Mtn. Man, actually *tossed my toys* over a cliff. Luckily he put them in a bucket first in order to dump and so they were gathered together in roughly the same spot. This man *destroyed Aloha* (!). To remind, Aloha is in City Park, not County Park. And Mtn. Man now *lives* just outside of the former location of Aloha and is building a fire pit directly underneath the same rock the toys were positioned under — thus the tossing. He thought a kid brought them up the mountain to this location. I had to explain to him I was a 63 year old kid, ha. Yes, we talked. We are actually friends now. We are linked. I quickly explained that the toys were a sort of art happening, and that I was an artist. The next day, on our big hike around the area, I explained in more detail that I was a collagist, although I’m not sure if he understood. Do *I* even understand? Anyway, to recap, Mtn. Man moves his camp site from County Park to City Park, destroys proximate Aloha, and then encounters me shortly after, where we become friends. But, at the time, *I did not remember* this was the same person from County Park I exchanged a sentence or two with last September until a bit later. Very very peculiar, but it continues…

(to be continued)

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March 29, 2023 · 12:52 pm

00370501

A new area has opened up in Blue Mountain for exploration I call One Pink Mountain. Or Pink Mountain. Or Pink. Because of the circle above below. A passageway leads us there — magical. This will be a *shared* environment. More soon!

Area: Almost exactly 1 square mile. Let’s spread or widen it a tad or pinch, then, and make it exactly.

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July 26, 2022 · 1:21 am

Every Man’s Land

“You again (!).”

“Yeah? What’ll it be?”

“What’ll what be?”

“Red or blue, bud. Good or evil I suppose. Dunno, don’t care. But you gotta choose to play,” he insisted.

“No,” said Newt. “You don’t understand. I’m just here to talk about Squared Root City with someone. Why this place — Ontario — and that place don’t get along, see.”

The fellow I’ve already seen several times in Ontario, including the groundside gun store where Arthur Kill was killed with a bullet to the heart by grown up Tessa at the end of the last photo-novel, just scratches his head. “Dunno anything about that. You might have to see the Mayor. Or even higher.”

“Mayor?” Newt parroted. “Higher?”

“Yeah, the King of course. I don’t know anything about this Root Squared City,” he insisted.

“Squared Root City,” Newt quickly corrected, but then thought about it. 3.16 x 3.16 is essentially 10, which is perfection (to us Pythagorean related TILERs). But then 3.16 is also pretty close to the circumference of a circle with a diameter of 1, and, in the case of City Park, County Park, Country Park, even closer. 3.14 to 3.15, maybe even 3.16 again. They are coded as All Ears because if Mickey Mouse’s face was turned into a matching circular ear it would exactly fit between all 3, copyright issues forever solved.

“I know this is space,” he continued, seeing the thoughtful look on Newt’s face, “but you can’t space out here. You gotta play or you gotta go. Orders.”

“Of who?”

“Dunno. Just came with the instructions.”

“Who do you work for?” The gun shop employee now space game arcade employee scratches his head again. “You gotta leave,” he insisted, and pointed to the lightsaber sign.

“I know I know,” said Newt, preparing to explore the rest of this space station. But first he had to ask permission to look out the window for a moment at all those glorious stars, perhaps some galaxies mixed in.

“Sure I suppose. 5 minutes. But then…”

“Gotta go, I get it.”

He walked toward the nearest window, stared out. Many of the illuminated dots were moving. Could these be spaceships? Newt pondered. And the colors (!). Not just white, but pink blue yellow. He could stare at it for days but he only had minutes, seconds now.

“Time’s up, bud,” he says oh too soon. But surely there will be other windows around the station with just as good a view, maybe better.

“Can I ask your name?” he said before leaving.

“Jack,” came the answer back. “Now… please.” He indicated the door.

“Goodbye Jack,” Newt said while walking out, knowing there was something to that name. Because, in some circles, perhaps the ones we just talked about, Jack was code for clone.

(to be continued)

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July 23, 2022 · 8:37 am

WTF

The woods speak once more. A gnome appears high on a local mountain in a place I generically term County Park, a more eastward counterbalance (or countybalance, ha) to our City Park and its Aloha village of toy avatars tucked under a thought-to-be sheltering rock on Mt. Tom. This is a taller mountain by about 500 feet: 4038 to around 3525. Name? Um, let’s leave that for now. Okay, let’s say The Knob. Anyway, the gnome appears off a trail quite a ways up it. Someone would have had to make a pretty good effort to get it there — the figure is a foot tall or close to it. A backpack would have been needed.

Salazar Jack or Jacob Gnome; Harry or Harold the Gnome; another child gnome who we know grows up to be Barry DeBoy; and now this, in a way the most miraculous of all. Is it an indication I should move all my toys from Mt. Tom over to this nearby location? Especially given the presence of a bee hole right on the edge of Aloha, and also mud dauber wasps threatening from above? Something to think about.

If only I could figure out a way to talk to the newly discovered toy avatar. Maybe through Barry? So many questions (as usual).

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June 23, 2022 · 10:21 am

00330405

He was in Pieve, Alysha beside him per usual. Her gams glistened in the morning dew; so did his, for that matter. 3.16 instead of 3. He has a bottle instead of a can so he knows this coke experience is real. We are truly back in the past.

It doesn’t work any other way, he reviewed in his mind. The circumference of the circles must be that instead of 3. City Park… County Park… Country Park, the latter basically inactive this time of year because, mainly, of the blocking poison ivy. My shortcut meadow is now full of it (!).

But City and County give me a lot to explore in the summer, which has only just started, he thinks. TOM, for one.

“Tom,” he said aloud, hoping Alysha would respond. “Um, w-what?” she said groggily, having fallen asleep in her lounge chair. Not enough shut-eye last night, she then excused herself, which Kolya obviously understood.

“Tom,” he repeated carefully, not wanting to spill the beans too early. He had become good at saving them up. But sometimes it happens. Like last night.

“Oh yes,” she recalled, stretching her arms and yawning. “The mountain… Top O’ Mountain. TOM.”

He waited a while again. “What…”

“… do you think we should do with it?” she completed for him, gams for gams. 3.16 he thought again. Something is about to begin.

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June 9, 2022 · 9:01 am

00330309

The Bogota series, The Arab ponders here, studying the collage section of the blog. Half series, half not, the complexity of the photo-novels weighing in again. Since Boos, collages have depended on its now enormous (ponderous?) storyline. That was 2015. This is 2022. A long time for collages to serve another master and not themselves as completed, self contained art works, or at least self contained art series. Bogota changed all that. Bogota never had its own gallery, although I tried to make a unified sense of the whole. Didn’t work, except, a bit, for inclusive series Bogota Proper, as I call it, and, more recently — in the last year and a 1/2 or so — Picturetown, another Canadian based series like Boos before it, notably enough. But even Picturetown was different: separate it from the attached photo-novel, 24 in a series of, presently, 32, and the meaning is severely diluted, maybe irreparably damaged. Yet I still do create individual collages here and there in the continuing process. This, I assume, will continue…

Looking back on it, audio-visual synchronicities, another kind of collage, go hand in hand with the 2d, more “regular” ones. What one might call the first true movie collage of the bunch, “Billfork” back in 2004, was created in the same year as the 1st 2d collage series in Greenup. Then, on the other side, Boos was created about the same time as the last audio-visual collages I made in 2015-2016.

Just moving down the blog headers to Reality — Reality, pheh, what a concept! — I’ve hiked almost every day since I retired March 1. I’ve included some RL photos in the blog recently, but I want to do more of that. It’s all going to a place where I concoct one of those woodsy art happenings again, like with Bigfoot-Chesterton also from 2015-2016, another of those seeming last-of-its-kind phenomenon. Truth is, I think that audio-visual synching will return, albeit in a very different and unexpected form. Collage series will continue, perhaps separating out from virtual reality again and relying more on themselves alone for meaning. Writing is very important, but art also will go on.

And I’ll probably try my hand at an actual novel sometime, sans pictures. The setting may very well be Oz.

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April 14, 2022 · 8:04 am

jot em down (Pine Apple)

Could it be true? The tent would have been potentially facing that direction: toward the thick Pine Forest. But Mystery Cave to the north and Fern Wall to the south could also be involved. Maybe even *triangulate* between all 3.

Spongebub might know, if his last name is actually Triangleslacks and not the more obvious. We’ve already met his wife, his son in this here story through the similarly dreaming Leforest Bresford over at Ontario village. What happened to her?

—–

“There are rumors about a big floating can seen in the park or thereabouts, Ms. Bresford, sometimes with a woman’s legs and head attached to it. Some reports put it with 2 other figures, both cowboys, sticking out the can’s top alongside the woman’s. Others have two children, still others have red and blue dummies or mannequins. Others… well, you get the picture.”

“Yes. We: Can!” the blue one to her left wanted to reveal freely to the Big Wig before her. “You *can’t* do it,” countered the red figure on her right, knowing it was the wrong thing to admit. The only thing she could decide in the moment was that she had to choose. The world opened up in front of her. A bullet that had formerly been frozen in reality caught her square in the heart, the center. Bart had the last evil laugh or at least aberrant chuckle.

Another agent would have to be sent in. Or not… maybe just forget about the whole Ontario village sub-plot — for now.

Next!

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March 25, 2022 · 10:18 am

more black and white 02

https://bakerbloch.com/2021/11/10/00300110/

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/03/22/00320212/

“Who are you?”

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