Tag Archives: creator man^*~~~~~~

the wedding of Winsor and Newton (damsel in this dress (embarrassed zebra))

“MO like on a ship?”

“Plane. But a plane is a ship in the sky.”

—–

We land in Misty MO again. Someone steps out of the plane. I believe it might be Jennifer M. Friend but I’m a little discombobulated tonight admittedly. I’m on a straight diagonal toward Endgame but can I reach it? I had a sister.

I had a sister.

—–

He looks away from where he’s been and thinks about the present.

—–

He wasn’t happy with his latest painting — “Parasols” — and he’d run out of green paint as well. Irritation tonight. A big black fly zoomed around the room, sometimes landing on his painting as if it were a window outta here. And perhaps it was.

“Jerry?” he called over. “Wanna go on a walk?” He was trying to be as cheerful as possible, given his mood.

Jerry, she thinks. Is that who he believes he’s sleeping with? The *ex*?

“Hardly.”

He recognized the voice. “Flo?”

“Jerry… went home.” Flo wondered if he still had a relationship with “Mr. Green,” given that he had none. She could tell if the painting was dry or not. She went into the other room of the Greek village apartment, hovered over him.

“H-how?”

“Tell me if that’s Wet Glaize. Or Dry Glaize.” She stood her ground, allow him to absorb the shock of her presence her on this romantic isle in disguise. Instead: trap.

“Wet Glaize *is* Dry Glaize,” he uttered automatically, bringing in more memories.

—–

She couldn’t tell. They next went outside to drink and catch up and look at the view. She turned away from the blue, not wanting to be reminded of crosses. Because she remembers. Greg Ogden was… well, she didn’t want to think of it right now. The bastard pirate!

“Do you even remember Ruby the green alien,” she complained after finishing one glass of wine and beginning another. I believe it was her 5th. “Where did you *leave* her?”

Green, he thinks. Where did I leave green?

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artists (something to chro about)

Right over there he was. My greatest creation: Harrison Ford Jett. I’ll never get close enough to call him Harry, but *Jerry* might. What’s her name again now? he thinks, folding his arms behind his head in a mimicking action. Sally?

Bluebird, he remembered later, descended from Blackbird. And he was a whole band on the run. Perfection.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0414, Yaya Land

red green blue yelloo!

The artist explains to a prospective buyer that an arm *is* a leg, cutting the price in half. Saale!

“If you dream correctly,” he explained afterwards, “you have purchased a whole museum inside the picture containing many more objects you now own. You’re welcome!”

She took the painting home using both her arms and legs to haul the massive object around. By doing so she has become a creature as well as creator. The door to her house becomes that of the museum. She steps inside the other world, waking up.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0401, Europe, Yaya Land