https://hyperallergic.com/842222/who-did-this-to-basquiats-old-manhattan-studio/
Doodlehedz can still see underneath the Pink. She hasn’t given up hope.
Category Archives: MAPS
hard in the middle hard at the ends
They called the big room where they lived simply “Home”. For example: “I’m going Home now,” Tammy Beige Brown would say to her pleased boss with 5 fresh stories to print in his paper by 10:01AM. Then she’d hop on her bike — or, alternately (especially on sunnier days (disposition-wise)), hop on her hopper and head back to Marsha, Pumpkinhead (*not* Pumpkinass), Lelia, Kellyya (hmm, another L and K, like Leroy *Kelly* after all) and the rest, all collected in what outsiders would perceive as a doll house in the next big room pictured above. They thought of it as just a house, period. A home within a bigger HOME… as in home base from baseball, as in a place they could feel safe, superior catcher always stuck sitting on the bench, never graduated to a star himself. They were still in play, in effect, 9 on the field. No sin in Cincinnati. F-ing hard city to spell.
Let’s swing the camera around and look in to what these tiny dwellers of this realm called Story Room, after the paper and the articles within, or at least that’s a byproduct of this adjacent big room, perhaps. No one knows when the appellation started, or when they started calling this other, neighboring room something other than Home as well. It became WORK.
Marsha “Pink” Krakow was originally confused about Tammy “Beige” Brown getting a job at the newspaper there. “What newspaper?” she uttered, momentarily forgetting that she’d seen this very object many times from her supposed secret perch on top of the cupboard in this very room, the place she just took child Shelley in this here photo-novel, 39 in a f-ing long series it seems, infinitely harder to figure out than the spelling of Ohio’s 2nd city. “Not *at* a newspaper,” Tammy originally replied to Marsha’s question after procuring the coveted post. “*On* a newspaper. Then she realized for the 1st (?) time that it was both and said so. After a couple of days on the job she additionally explained that she sits down at her canvas (= blank page) and spills coffee all over it, which highlights the stories she’s suppose to write on any given day. Then she just copies them down (photography, she thinks at the time — she could just take *pictures* of the articles and send it to Leroy (Leroy?) instead of having to paint it all up — inferior art form she then tacks on in her head about it), and she’s done for the day, usually by 10 or 10:01 at the latest (so far). That’s how she found out about Steamboat — it was all in the story highlighted in the stain. Thus the spiel today, her 3rd on the job. Leroy was never the same as Steamboat. The nickname never existed, although the halfback could indeed steam his way through tacklers like a boat or something, approaching but of course not reaching the heights of the great, unsurpassable Jim Brown before him. He was fresh off the bench. He was picking up steam, quickly becoming a star himself (the article said). But he, again, was never named such. Despite the memories of childhood NFL broadcasts.
And those rooms beyond you can catch a glimpse of in the above picture, one may ask? Also Story Room for the moment, including the bathroom with the floaty toy ducks in the tub and the rezzable, handy objects in the sink like a hairdryer and a razor, along with working scales. But what of Storybrook?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0607, Ohio, River
there is no Steamboat Kelly, only Leroy
She looks over at the back of Pumpkinhead and thinks: Pumpkin*ass* is more like it, pleased that she doesn’t have such a big rump. She turns her attention back to Tammy, focuses in on the information she is blabbering on and on about. Brownsvile. Cleveland. Steamboat. Marsha gathered she’d heard or learned something in childhood that didn’t hold a bit of water when she grew up, except for the fact there was a Steamboat Springs in Colorado in the same state as a conjunction of Leroy and Kelly, albeit in a county pretty far away in a pretty big state still. Tiny places, perhaps extinct. Couldn’t have been a factor in the mistake. Not *consciously*. “Tell me more about the Browns in Maps,” she decides to say in a pause. “How about that place called Brown’s Bench you mentioned earlier,” she starts her out on about the spot she lost the train of thought — started thinking about rumps. Rumpus Ridge, big ball of twine — LOST. What did it all mean? Oh, shoot, there she goes again. “I’m sorry, Tammy, I was blanking out again — nothing to do with your *excellent* subject. It’s just…,” and here Tammy begins again without warning, without waiting for an explanation from Marsha Pink Krakow on what she was thinking in her own head. Tammy was talking hers out loud per usual. She: more internal, thoughtful. She heard Bench and then Rose. “Biding his time, hmm,” she says about what she thought she just heard.
Leroy Kelly was a star running back for the Cleveland Browns in the late 60s and early 70s. But he had to wait for the retirement of Cleveland’s greatest star ever before he too could shine — not as brightly of course, because we’re talking about the one and only *Jim* Brown, perhaps the greatest football player of all time never mind greatest runner. Certainly most Ohioans would agree to this, Clevelanders or otherwise. Leroy had to sit on the bench, bide his time until the greater star’s early retirement at the age of 30, shocking the sports world, since he was still on top of his game, it seemed.
I’m going to find them, he thought outside, not being able to see thru walls yet. He *senses* them, and they probably do him as well, at least Marsha does, being more open to those kind of things. If they per chance lock eyes it could be over. Safe at home for now, though.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0606, Colorado, River, South Dakota
light and shadow (The Z’s)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0604, Bogota, collages 2d, Pennsylvania, Willow Hill
stranger
Suddenly, miraculously, she had shrunk down, her weight even closer to Zero now as she’s checking. Crocogator watched from atop one of the floating ducks in the distance, somewhat disappointed the tale hadn’t gone on. But Story Room calls. Residents.
The world becomes solid. The curtain closes slightly more, just a slither.
Suddenly we are in a different place altogether.
Hmph. How’d I get over here??
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0513, Colorado, River, West Virginia
now
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0502, Bogota, collages 2d, Colorado, Constantynople, Falmouth, Nautilus, Rank & File, Washington, Willow Hill
00390415
“Why from the Abyss,” she answered the hot dog guy, trying to guess the ambiguity. The Christmas look and the green nose didn’t win him over. “Gracious goodness I’ve forgotten the name of this festive thingamabob growing out of my nose,” she said just earlier, talking about it before he did, they all did (in her mind). “Not mistletoe — that’s for hanging *above* your head, not *off* it, ah ha ha ha ha!” Did the laugh convince?
“Well it looks like a big long booger,” he said crudely, and then asked if she wanted relish on her big loong dog. Disgusting. Why did she come out of hiding in the first place? To deal with lowlifes like this beach bum? This nobody? “Where you from? Woman?”
—–
Where indeed? There were *elephants* in her Abyss now, another sign she had to go, along with the rest of the avatar family. Zimmy is obviously Jimy. Jimy Z., gone as sure as Zimmy since he was also dead. Only the symbolic Liverpool plane remains: big red machine, twitch of the Morgan, lumber for a Bench. Red as Rose, another archetype and more obvious. Red Star becomes Old Red Star and is banished from the game he so so loves. They bring in a Foster boy and he turns out to be just as legit as any of ’em. Conception is an error caught between the legs. Perez just is. Geronimo! (and he died) Griffey had a Junior who took control. One through eight complete. Visible compendium. No need to worry about the zero and the nine. They were enough by themselves to carry the team through any troubles, ride it to victory. Never mind who pitches what. What’s the pitch, Pitch? Didn’t matter. They were enough. Biiig lumber.
She went to talk to Willy Wonka in the past present future to give him a piece of her mind, dodging big piles of elephant doo all along the way. They met at the south end of the property, where we’ve been before, CROOKED in clear sight through an opening between palm trees and rocks. “You *don’t* understand,” she complained while indicating. “Those are *historic* buildings over there.” “That *junk*?” he reiterated, trying to think of new and more effective ways to derender all that for his fancy smancy artsy fartsy photos. “It looks like, I don’t know, a giant kid ate a whole bunch of tinker toys and legos and then threw up.” “*Moard* *Ling*”, she kept defending. “You’ll never hold a candle to him… Wonka.” It took a while but she had learned to respect the prolific prim creator, stuck in the past but with lessons to teach. Sometimes the past is better, at least in part, in ways. This is what she learned from Constantynople, soon to be no more here. She was about to have her last pass through it. She spotted the purple garbed guy — another *former* after all, another one living in the past. Why can’t he *see*?
It could have been different.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0415, Colorado, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File
00390212
Not yet (*sip*).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0212, collages 2d, Constantynople, Falmouth, Nautilus, Rank & File, Washington
00390208
Yet another pepper, a 3rd for the shirt and top covering up the exposed tank. Superseding the other two?
Big Stickout in MACAvity, another West Virginie resonance.
Meanwhile, the actual, non-merged Shelleys have started taking train rides with each other on another part of the FILE, but are kicked off before entering the water, marking passage into a different sim. Shelley, one of them, I suppose Shelley 01 which would be more appropriate, then spots a red pin on a map of Pickle 01 off the coast of the 1st Bellissaria continent, technically part of the continent itself since it was the first landmass to form there. Maybe this is our next lead, she thinks, clothes still a bit wet from the brief dunking. But she fared better than the one sitting more up front.
Pickle 01 and Pickle 02, then. Just like Shelleys 01 and 02, interesting. Also combining, and perhaps not in a good way as well.
A different location for Pickle 01’s red pin back in photo-novel 21 but too similar not to mean something, most likely.
So Shelley 01 stays put at the map while Shelley 02 checks out the actual location on Pickle 01. Real time investigating we have here. Exciting! Let me just close up some windows before actually logging on the 2nd Shelley, the now basically duplicate to the first minus some secondary cosmetic attributes along with the use of more demos to save money in the process… Okay, that should be enough.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0208, Bellisaria, Constantynople, Nautilus, NORTH, Pickle 01, Pickle 02, Rank & File, Rim Isles, West Virginia
Sunklands 