what we know so far…
It’s called Soos Mountain Community, north central part of the Jeogeot mainland continent, Our Second Lyfe. Somoco for short.
Two ground galleries exist there for my collages: the Boos Gallery (or, now, “Boos in Soos” I suppose, ha) and, next door, the Red Umbrella. Details of each can be found on the collage page of this site.
I’ve decided not to call this village Collagesity again because I don’t have the majority of my collages displayed there, unlike a true, classic version a la a Rubi (Heterocera) or a Fordham (Nautilus) location. Lacking are Falmouth, Gilatona-Lis, and Art 10×10 collage series, over 200 collages in total. Also I’m having challenges fitting in newer, post-Boos collages into a proper virtual gallery, all lumped together for now and labeled Bogota (2016-present). Unlike other series, Bogota works tend to act as supplements to the photo-novels instead of linking with each other inside independent series (or sub-series), although I’ve decided to divide them into such anyway, or make a stab at it. Since photo-novel 01, “Collagesity Winter 2015-2016”, the tone and intensity of the collages have shifted. I’m still exploring what this means long term: the progression of the novels, almost 36 in number now (!), doesn’t seem to be slowing down much at all. *It* is the new center moving forward, not collages, although this situation could change/revert. I’m also eyeing a return to audiovisual synchronicities in the future, another kind of collage revival. We’ll see.
Anyway, back to the name, Soos Mtn. is the dominant natural feature of the community so there’s that as well.
Who lives there? A chance that Karoz Blogger and his lovely wife and blog co-owner Baker Blinker will, although that’s a bit up in the air. I’m eyeing the Julia House strategically placed along the community’s only cascade/waterfall for a residence, something that was set up in Collagesity Fordham for that same purpose but not really fulfilled. Perhaps Karoz can regain the N there he lost somewhere along the way, turning it or transforming it into a Julian House, droop no more. Unlikely but still a probability.
Martian Mabel could return. Her old Scarlet Creative Sylvia House she loved so much has been rerezzed. Her crush on blog co-owner Baker Bloch could be revisited, her *Gravity Falls* origins reexamined, hmm.
Entrepreneur and noted art thief Herbert Gold and his accomplice-wife Lovey (April Mae Flowers) are quite likely to return. Their very interesting and unique Gothic-Deco House is all set up and ready to move back into, positioned below the Julia House and the falls we mentioned before. To review, they stole the collage “Humanvillians” from the Falmouth Gallery in 2019 and got in a lot of trouble because of it. They want to fully redeem themselves in the eyes of others.
Baker Blinker’s old Gloomy Gus residence is also back (directly above the Scarlet Creative Sylvian House). Wheeler’s place?
The Hole in the Wall bar has returned, present in every version of Collagesity down through the years as I recall.
The Red Door Church sits on the northern slope of the mountain. Seems to be a revival of the Ood religion going on within, what with the return of the clown sacrificial alter. Not sure about its opposite religion Fries with Cheese actually run by clowns; no presence yet in the community. Have they all been eradicated?
Then we have the 2 pillars of the community in the Blue Feather on the western side, in the lowest part of the land, and then the Soos Castle perched on the very top of the mount. We’ll examine those in more detail in a post coming up.
top to bottom: Soos Castle, Red Door Church, Falls Shack, Julia House, Gothic-Deco House
left to right: Gothic-Deco House, Gloomy Gus, Scarlet Creative Sylvia House, ML Gazebo 138, Hole in the Wall, Blue Feather
Boos and Red Umbrella collage galleries
(to be continued)
I had to go find out if this was really Mabel we’re dealing with here, a girl of purest green. In a way I suppose it had to be. Kitty kats — not the first time we’ve shared that link in this here photo-novel, 36 in a number.
*There* she is. Composing one of her backwards chord songs it appears from the sound of it, green plant in front of her dancing along with the queer results. She was green it was green. They were one.
After convincing her I was Baker Bloch in another form, she fessed up at least to the knowledge of Tintown, a former tiny community on the edge of Mortons Gap. But whether Kentucky or Our Second Lyfe remained to be determined.
I’ll probably spend the rest of this here photo-novel tracking down a select group of past characters and try to convince them to come join me in Somoco (Soos Mountain Community), my new home on the Jeogeot continent. Like Karoz here, enjoying the view in a revamped Wendy sim. I’m not sure I’ll be successful in prying him away from all this.
“Just try it out,” I urged from the side. “The Julia House is all set up at that nice waterfall slash cascade you and Baker Blinker seem to like.” But I knew the problem was the missing N, which would in all likelihood never be recovered. And the same thing goes in the opposite way for his wife and thought-to-be soulmate Baker Blinker. So I decided to sit down with her instead.
She was living in a different part of the French themed city called Serenity — up on the plateau instead of down in the valley with Karoz. I did not have access to her location tonight. Oh well. Who’s next?
I’ve tried Mabel but just got circled back to Franklin, a fellow greenie, large-ish instead of small-ish.
Herbert Gold, then. Or his wife Lovey, changed from April Mae Flowers sometime between photo-novel 30 and now.
Even though everything has changed around me, I still come here and wait and hope. Come find me again Baker Bloch!
Free me from these shackles.
“Yes this will do just fine,” Lucas spoke, looking down on the body floating in the pool beyond the top of the waterfall. “Nice view,” he added.
“We’ll have to charge you the same price as the Julia House. I’m not sure we can rent both at the same time. Conjoined, you see.”
“Twins, yeah,” said Lucas to this, still a stranger in town but hoping at least to get to know one specific resident quite a bit better in the coming weeks and months. Baker Bloch. Who’s showing him this Falls Shack, he called it, a quite leany affair but better suited to his needs. He knows he’ll be able to talk Baker down in price. After all, this was absolutely the most poorly built structure in Somoco. “10 lindens a month,” he said, turning around and staring at those oh so dead eyes directly. He didn’t tack on “take it or leave it” because he intended to go up — exactly 5 lindens.
“Make it 15,” Baker Bloch relented, and to that Lucas nodded. We have our first “permanent” resident, a mysterious one. This young man — boy really — was not what he seemed.
“Why the tire beside the front porch?”
“It reminds me of a past time in another location. Full of junk like that. I had to sit on a tire based concoction to do my business, for example.”
“Good good,” I assuaged. Seems like this is going in the right direction for a sale. Now to the price. “50 lindens,” I said.
“A month?” Herbert Gold shot back.
“Well, no. A week. It’s a fabulous view…”
“… that could be blocked by a neighbor’s structure any day now, any hour.”
Gold had a point. “A month, then,” I said. What was money in this town, straight or curvy? Didn’t matter. “Just don’t tell the other renters I gave you such a deal.”
He made a zipping motion over his lips, indicating he understood. Mum’s the word.
“And April Mae Flowers too — whenever she shows up.”
“I’ll tell her,” he said. “But she likes to go by Lovey now. Ever since the theft of our identities back in (photo-novel) 34. To help differentiate *us* Golds from *them* Golds. Gold City Golds,” he clarified. “Like in Gilligham’s Island,” he said about her new name. “And me…”
“Yes, Thurston. Backus,” I refined, taking it to another level and indicating the actor who played the super rich Thurston Howler the Third beyond the character. Descended from monkeys they were, as we all are. Their fictional surnames just indicate a closer connection than most.
“And,” said Gold. “She *is* lovely. That’s not just a name borrowed from some hack 60s sitcom.”
Back in the day maybe, I think here. “Of course,” I said aloud.
“We want to clear our names, make ourselves good, even model citizens in the eyes of others here. Who have we got so far?”
“Five,” I said, indicating a number instead of names. Because it was really only 3, and I was counting the Howlers as chickens before they hatched. Because he hadn’t given a definitive “yes” yet.
“Counting us?” Ahh, prescient a bit, I think here, pondering whether this was a good character trait or bad character trait. How far goes the mind reading? I decided to think of a number; see if he could guess.
“Are you thinking seven, then?”
He immediately went further back in darkness with this, fear taking over. He could be returning as some sort of saint but he definitely had been a sinner. True to his name, though, he was certainly valuable, gold if not platinum. Because we wanted to stay away from platinum this time. That was the direction of The End.
I extended my hand for a shake. He put a chocolate chip one in it, prepared and hiding in a back pocket for just this moment. I remained confused if this sealed the deal or not until I drank it later back at the Blue Feather and found a fifty dollar bill at the bottom of the cup. 1st month’s rent. The Golds are bona fide Somocons.
(to be continued)
“So tell me about this Church of the Ood. Been a while, you know.”
“Oh things have changed. No more clown sacrifices for these good folk up here. That’s all done and in the past.”
“Explain.” He looks at the pictures up front again, merged at the frames — black and white, yin and yang, he perceives. He’s explaining the situation to himself. “One beneath it all?” he guesses.
“Yes.” Guy sure is psychic, thinks Baker Bloch again, still hanging around Gold since his wife has been delayed. Suspicious but of course he doesn’t delve deeper into a reason. The Golds always seem to sort it out despite the many issues involved now, he thinks, infidelity to name a big one on both their parts. High Infidelity, then.
“I was also thinking,” Gold theorized further, “that the clowns have been exterminated through repeated sacrifices and there’s no more reason to hate them. Because none exist.”
“Yeah, that too I suppose. 1/2 and 1/2.” Gold glared over. We weren’t suppose to use that expression past novel 25, the one that changed everything. Baker apologizes, but he only 1/2 meant it. He of course kept that fact to himself. Because — it was a little thing but such things add up to make big things — he wanted to make it okay to say that again. He wanted to honor 12 Oz Mouse expressions above all else. Now that Spider has been found inside collages again. Spider equals Skillet, he knows through Missouri. Polk County, Missouri, to be specific. Home of Uncle Joe and Aunt Zoe, humanvillians both. He didn’t return the glare but he looked over all the same. Gold — could turn into platinum at any specific turn of events. Reaction. Visit from grand-niece and now grown-up Tessa could trigger it. Because she thought him dead anyway; surprised he was still a part of the Land of the Living after Baker phoned her up on a whim. He’s curious to see what happens when they meet.
And where is Preacher Zoidboro? he thinks. 7:05 now. Everyone is here that’s here so far, everyone is anticipating results from this lone religion of town now that the clowns are gone. They have to find or at least pretend to find some sort of God or else all is still doomed.
(to be continued)
Tvin Tovn, neither here nor there.
Tvin Town at best.
“See? He likes you. He’s staring at you instead of me.”
“And…” said Lucas to the left of us, the reader or readers, “… you are?” He had to ask. The other seemed oblivious to the transformation that happened while they walked up the hill to here, not really a chance meeting since the town wasn’t that big.
“Baker. Baker Bloch. We just looked at the Falls Shack together the other day. You pay me rent. 15 bucks a month.”
“You are not Baker,” spoke Lucas. “Or at least the Baker I know.”
“Well of course–” Baker Bloch looked down at his non-gloved hands, his olive drab shirt, his black-gray shoes and pants. He was not the Baker he knew.
“Explain,” said Lucas. “Explain everything. Start with Carrcassonnee. How did you come up with such a krazy kooky name?”
I sat today with blog owner and blog stranger or newcomber. They asked me questions about my source. I, Carr, came up with something. Rrrrr. RRRRrrrrr. Rrr Rrr RRRRrrrrrrr. I start (continual raspberry noise).
the witch cometh
“It was the end of the line for me, Baker Bloch. Car broke down, you see.”
“Couldn’t go further down this road. Had to give over to another.”
“Who is yourself,” the male Baker attempted to clarify.
“No.” Fellow core Wheeler Wilson left it at that. I suppose it was like saying Baker Bloch here was the same as Clifton Mahoney — oops, there he goes again.
“You’re breaking down too,” Wheeler pointed out, staring over at the new figure. We’re *old*, Baker Bloch. Time to yield. There’s… even Liz standing behind Shelley now, 2 down the road instead of 1. Clifton Mahoney—” But Wheeler shut up here, not wanting to revealed too much future stuff again. No need to know about Carbon Glow right now.
Baker/Clifton extended his draw distance out to the maximum (512 meters), stared out across the flat plain toward the mountain he now rents the top of. The castle never rezzed above the bus stop in front of him, although it did when checking from this very spot yesterday. He sat and sat…
Broken once again. Our Second Lyfe has a fatal flaw, he thinks.
Wheeler could view it fine but she could see in the dark. And twice as big. Secret weapons. Among others.
“Nice redwoods over there,” Wheeler tried to deflect. But he couldn’t see them properly neither in the moment. Moving on…
Tiny no more
Making his way through the profusion of lettuce, tomatoes, and peppers in the community garden, avatar Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney, fully transferred over from Baker Bloch and accepting of that new role, enters the cave system from the hole directly below the 7th and last spire of Castle Soos. Probably goes to Kentucky, Real Life, he’s thinking. Pretty sure. Hence the name: Mammoth, changed over at the tail end of the 2nd Robolution, the Panhandle Year some call it.
He switches on the light.
“And over there is Carbon Glow — geez, I didn’t even realize they were that close. So you see, I’m the one that has to rescue Carrcassonnee from the cave.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” queried Lucas. “I thought — you already went into the cave.”
“No, that was a *dream* about going into the cave I told you. Quite different.”
“Tomorrow for the cave? Out back? Under the 7th spire of Soos Mountain Castle. Somoca?” Lucas was trying to keep straight on everything; not get bogged down in the labyrinth of information again. Carbon Glow? Kentucky? Carcassonne? But with the extra letters to disguise the link. But now he’s telling it openly.
“Yes. Just through the vegetable garden. The Red Door Church should have shut their doors while they had the chance.”
“Tell me about that relationship once more.”
It was here Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney told him about the deleted train track. And the train. Teensie, also known as Tiny (before the 1st Robolution). The train use to pass right through its doors and into the cave. He was going to revive it.
“What about Spider?” Lucas then asks, knowing the mutt had to be in on it too.
“You leave that to me.”
(to be continued)
Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney taking a well deserved rest at Gloomy Gus after a busy day working on the train and railroad. He’d figured it out. The last *key* was removing the cave front and replacing it with this suspiciously rectangular piece of rock positioned at the top of the town’s cascade, a leftover mistake of residents at the time…
.. because this was obviously the old front of the tunnel that the train passed through beneath the 7th and final spire of Castle Soos, also known as Soos Mountain Castle, or Somoca, not to be confused with the Soos Mountain Community, instead abbreviated Somoco. Anyway, once he figured this out and did the switcheroo, the train slotted perfectly into the hole, spinning keytop on the locomotive fitting comfortably beneath the top now, which the shorter cave didn’t allow. Check it out.
Another thing he had to do to make it all work was to shrink the miniature train found in storage behind the castle (more sloppiness!) from Tiny back to Teensie, an even smaller, original, pre-Robolution version, the one that allowed for proper portal hopping, he felt. He wouldn’t go to Oklahoma next time, even thought that was just a dream. Or if he did, he’d know it wasn’t in error this go around. Something about dunes last night. Check here:
That’s not the first time we’ve brought up Beaver formerly Beaver City Oklahoma in this here blog and attached photo-novels. More soon (stay tuned!).
“Well it’s just lovely, dear.”
Like you, he thinks. He’s still smitten with her beauty after all these years. To him, she hasn’t aged hardly a bit. In his eyes. “We’ll get you some new art,” he explains about the missing piece on the wall, stolen from a gallery somewhere they both can’t recall the name of at this point. “Turning over a new leaf in this here newest version of Collagesity we are. Crinimals no more.”
“No more,” vowed his wife Lovey, the former Ms. April Mae Flowers, together the Clyde and Bonnie of Second Life art thievery. She reaches across the table to hold his hand. A team still they are, just on the right side of the law this go around. But then her mind starting wandering back to one particular piece specifically, the one that earned them their nickname of Humanvillians at the time of the steal. She was picking up on the psychic vibe of the community in her gifted way (so many residents with “gifts”!). Intuitively, she knew about the cave, the railroad, the train, the castle, the deity within who needed to return home so badly, whether it be Missouri or Kentucky or Oklahoma or some other state, even a state of mind.
“I’m glad that man I killed in Collagesity is still floating in the pool back there. A constant reminder of the errors of my way. We’ll keep him there.”
“The… gardener,” Herbert Gold, in turn, reminded his wife, thinking they really *both* killed him. Since he was his rival for her hand back in ’72. The Zoo Year; all the monkeys let loose; everything *bananas* (flying about). Who knows who did in who at the time, or who cheated on her husband and/or wife during any particular stretch. That Zoo needed to be closed, become a fossil. That Zoo was also Boos, the gallery, the collages. Did I say ’72? I meant 2017. 2016, actually, although 7 is a funnier number than 6. Sepisexton.
At the bottom of the hill below Herbert and Lovey’s new house, Sepisexton pulls in with Paul. They’re here about the art.
“Just up there,” she points. “Let’s go,” Paul says, ready to spew some new acidities.
(to be continued)
When the death card was dealt he’d seen enough and turned his back on them, walking away. Ocean it is today, not mountains. Not Ant and his history.
“I”m so glad you decided to come back, Arthur,” she spoke with full heart as the dark castle on the mount continued to recede into the distance, mentally if not necessarily physically. They were wrapping up their honeymoon in Mortons Gap, getting ready to head home.
Wherever that was. Probably Soos Mountain Community I would think. It was all being prepared.
Shelley Struthers testing out the redwoods near Somoco where we saw Wheeler Wilson and Baker Bloch earlier. She likes! Not Leni and the full pack of dances, but swell enough. Thumbs up, she gives us the reader while continuing, head screwed back on tightly as hell.