#Cherry Street Pier“

[hellonew-yorkgirl]

6. Es geht mit dem Bus nach Philadelphia

[tineeericeee]

What Waits Off the Coast of Santa Barbara

Chapter One: Taking a Short Walk on a Long Boardwalk

Summary: Carlton Lassiter is going on a late night walk on the pier, when he sees a figure just off in the distance.

Notes: Happy mermay! To both the psych community *and* the g/t community (I know you guys go nuts for Mermay)

Takes place post the first scene in season 1 episode 6: from the earth to the Starbucks, except Shawn and Lassiter still haven’t met.

Lassiter was drunk. Very drunk.

It had been two years. Two whole years, to the day, since he and Victoria had unofficially separated.

That, coupled with the fact that he felt he was slowly losing his touch at being a detective, put him in a very depressed mood. A mood he was just a tad too familiar with.

And the cherry on top, his partner, Lucinda Barry, had been transferred to a different station in a different city a few weeks ago, and he still hadn’t completely gotten over her. It wasn’t exactly clear whether she had done it of her own volition or if the chief had her transferred, but one thing was for sure: It definitely had something to do with their secret relationship.

Somehow, word had gotten out and spread fast, and soon enough the whole station knew about them. Lassiter wouldn’t have put it past her if she had requested the transfer out of embarrassment of being outed for dating her superior.

The new junior detective was okay. It could have been worse. But it also could have been better. Juliet O’Hara was a little bit too bushy-tail bright-eyed for his taste. She definitely had a lot more energy than Lucinda.

All of this added up to him desperately needing a night to himself. To go to a bar and drink all of his emotions away.

Lassiter had drink after drink after drink. Predominately whiskey, but there was some brandy at one point.

Eventually the bartender cut him off for the night, and told him to find a taxi to take him home. Lassiter had a better idea. A stroll on the boardwalk to hopefully clear his mind and let the sea air help sober him up.

———

Lassiter had been walking for at least an hour now, which would have been impressive had he been going at his usual gait. But he was mostly stumbling along, just focusing on keeping his feet below him and on the wooden boards.

Eventually, his vision stopped swimming and he could focus more on where he was going rather than the simple task of staying upright. Now he was able to take in his surroundings better.

He was far away from Tom Blair’s, and had walked long enough that the beach and the boardwalk was completely empty, save for him and what seemed like a lonely tarp crumpled in a heap down near the shore.

Lassiter sneered at it. People had no respect for nature anymore. They thought it was okay to just leave anything they weren’t using and expect no consequences.

He should pick it up and… what, drag it back to the bar where he left his Crown Vic? Haul it to the nearest trash can and just… set it down next to it?

As Lassiter walked down to grab the tarp, something else in the distance grabbed his attention. In the weak, dim light emanating from the small street light on the dock, he could pick out a large figure just out of the way, next to the shoreline.

‘…Strange.’

Curiosity getting the better of him, he trekked further down, digging through his pockets for the little pen light he always kept with him.

Just as Lassiter got to the… whatever it was, his hand finally found the tiny flashlight. He fumbled it for a second before locating the little button and clicking it on.

But what he saw made his heart stop, sobering him up.

The first thing Lassiter’s flashlight landed on was an impossibly large back end of a fish tail. It was absolutely massive. It must have been the size of a Great White, and this was just half of it! Each scale seemed to be roughly the same size, if not slightly smaller, than the palm of his hand, each one shimmering an unearthly green under the light of his torch. Small nicks and scratches dotted the whole of it. The whole thing was tangled in a green synthetic fishing net, wrapping around tightly.

He moved the flashlight upwards, and saw…

‘No. No, that’s just not possible.’

And yet there it was. Skin. Human skin, blending smoothly into the fish scales. It was a torso, and just as large as the tail. There were slightly larger gashes covering the soft, surprisingly slightly tanned skin.

It was also covered in the same plastic green netting, tangled and knotted all around. The fibers irritated the skin, cinching tightly and turning it an angry red.

An arm, on the opposite side, was tied up in the same shitty netting, and the other lying limply besides the body. Cuts that matched all of the other ones littered its arms. Arms that were size of his own body, with hands that could easily smother him if they so wished.

Lassiter almost didn’t want to, but he kept going.

And he saw the face. And it wasn’t anything like what he was expecting.

It was the face of a young man, with a chiseled jaw and roguish stubble. Perfectly pink shining lips — that were so big he could put one hand on them and just barely cover — parted slightly to show pearly white teeth, sharp and pointed. Long, beautiful brown lashes hid eyes that he was sure were just as mesmerizing as the rest of his face.

But it was just… the sheer size of the merman, mixed with his intoxicated brain, that caused Lassiter’s legs to crumple beneath him, and unceremoniously fall on his back into the soft sand. He groaned as stars winked out of sight as his vision was consumed by darkness.

—————

Notes: thanks for reading! And also a big special thanks to @arrowheadedbitch for beta reading!

ao3 link

[rifki16]

Love is Better the Second Time Around ep 4

Photo Credit : Love is Better the Second Time Around Promotional Account on Twitter | https://x.com/koi_nido/status/1772596502365356096?s=46

Gosh, this episode really made me so happy. It really compensated the massive emotional blue balls which I had because of Cherry Magic the Anime episode 11

SHORT REVIEW HERE WE GO ! SPOILERS SPOILERS!!!! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU WANT TO BE SURPRISED BY THE PLOT

The biggest thing that popped up to me from the episode is the Sukida vs Aishiteru difference in Japanese. Before watching the episode, I had this understanding that, okay, Japanese people prefer to just use Sukida as the stand-in for "I Love You" rather than using the actual phrase of Aishiteru. Even when Hitro described how much he always loves crab cream croquette, he used the word Sukida - chuto sukidasteo -, instead of Aishiteru, granted that he was describing how he loves an inanimate object, not a person. In the cold open, Hiro used the noun form of love, which is "Koi". OH and the nighttime postdate pier confrontation. I really would love to understand which words Takashi actually used. "まずは さ僕と恋をしてみようよ" - Takashi actually used the noun form of love - koi -, the second time in the show. "のに 君が思ってる以上に僕もずいぶん君にはまってるよ" was what Takashi said before the date, here he used the word "into you" or more literally "addicted to you". But then, during the sex scene, while Hiro was riding Takashi I MUST ADD, I was so shocked that Takashi actually said "Aishiteru". The notion of Japanese people being too afraid of standing out by saying "I Love You" really just blew out of my mind immediately. Of course, the context of the scene might actually describe the intensity of their love that crosses the mass mentality of conformity and hence, the utterance of "I Love You". And also, it happened very privately. Not in some streets where other people might judge you more, ergo lowering the bar of whether to say "I Love You" or not. This case of saying I Love You or not is very interesting for me, I really want to understand more Japanese speakers preferred dictions.

The second biggest thing that I noticed from the show is their way of saying Sex. My understanding is that in BL Japanese works, they will just flat out say "Sex" rather than coding it, like what happened in Tokyo in April is..., Straight J-Dramas, on the other hand, just used the word "it". In one of the episodes of Turn to Me Mukai-Kun, the only straight J-Drama that I've watched Mukai-kun talked with one of his previous sex partners, they used the word "it" to describe their no-strings-attached sex. Of course, it's just an observation, I have not watched that many straight J-dramas. However, it turns out, in this series, they much prefer to use the word "it" as well. In episode 3, when Hiro said, before leaving the onsen, "Just because we have done it, doesn't mean we're dating". I really thought it was just due to Hiro's disbelief that he had sex with his ex-boyfriend, hence the implicit shame in admitting, and uttering that he had "sex". But now, in episode 4, during Haru masturbation scene, he says "そもそも好きだししちゃったし", again, the use of "it" Even though, I think the context has shifted, Haru was slowly admitting his love and feelings to Takashi; hence, he may not see the sex as something to be ashamed of anymore. But again, this might come from a very amateur observer of Japanese linguistic culture, I mean, the use of "it" might actually signify the idea that Haru doesn't see what he does with Takashi as "Sex" maybe they see it as "making love" lol, I know, such a corny phrase. However, maybe, Haru is just not at the point of saying that they are making love yet, but not calling it something as casual as "sex", (I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman by Britney Spears playing in the background). But that hypothesis doesn't really stand as Hiro actually said the word "sex" as they were having sex. What exactly are the connotations of the word "sex" for Japanese speakers?

I really love the consent feature of this episode. Hiro was too drunk to give consent, so Takashi just entertained him in his house, and they went out after Hiro became sober. Weird that they didn't use the trope of being too drunk and being needed to be carried by your love interest lol.

I also love that they used Uke taking care of Seme trope. it happened in My Personal Weatherman, Sasaki to Miyano [not definitive], If It's with You [not definitive], to say the least. I know it's not good in equating all of these heteronormative gender roles to a gay couple, but I think it's a nice trope to show that Ukes have dignity and play such a crucial role in gay relationships. I think it's much better for Japanese viewers to understand the out-of-the-box ness of queer couples by showing more on how Semes can also take care of Ukes - like in The End of the World with You.

ALSO. My brain itch still stands!!!! HIRO REJECTED TAKASHI. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Gosh, the unequal love trope was called back in this episode. Is this a new trend amongst Japanese BL works?

FURTHERMORE. How can Takashi be that rich? Are university lecturers in Japan paid that well? the apartment, the stuff? HE HAS HIS OWN OFFICE, like what?

P.S. I really love how just mid-wild the sex scene in the end is. It's so typical of this show to be crazily in the middle.

After Takashi proposed and they all got lovey-dovey, omg they look so cute in acting like newlyweds.

Of course, they're gonna break up before reuniting in the finale, wouldn't be a bl if it didn't have one. Gosh, I'm gonna cry so hard in the next episode.

[certaincircuitsmagazine]

We are curating a multimedia fibers show called Phantastic Phibers in July at Cherry Street Pier in Philadelphia. The deadline is March 31, notification by April 30, and we will install the first week of July. Here is how to submit: Send a statement on the theme and five images or installation drawings to phantasticphibers@gmail.com. The small entry fee of $10 supports exhibition costs, and there is no commission taken. Please share with other local fiber artists. (Image: crochet sculpture by Jamie Campbell)

[tigerstrikesasteroidnetwork]

PHL / Seeing the Anthropocene

Seeing the Anthropocene curated by Julia Clift

On view: October 28-December 2, 2023, simultaneously at Tiger Strikes Asteroid and Cherry Street Pier, Philadelphia

Opening Receptions: November 4th, 5-8 PM at Cherry Street Pier, with a live performance at 6 PM, and November 9th, 6-9 PM at Tiger Strikes Asteroid

Artists and Collaborations: Austen Camille (with music by ENAensemble) | Lydia Cheshewalla | Matthew Colaizzo | Christopher McNulty | Ana Mosquera | Hui-Ying Tsai | Hui-Ying Tsai in collaboration with Jonathan Grover | Byron Wolfe | The Immersion Project: Austen Camille, Erik Cordes, Ph.D., Samantha Joye, Ph.D., Malte Leander, Christine Lee, and Rebecca Rutstein

Seeing the Anthropocene (StA) is a cross-venue exhibition curated by Philadelphia-based artist Julia Clift, featuring diverse artists and collaborative groups contending with the global climate crisis and other urgent environmental issues. Through wide-ranging media, the included artworks foster understanding of the moment we're in, inspire personal connections with the natural world, and imagine different potential futures depending on how we act today. The show features artists from across the country as well as international perspectives.  

Several artworks in StA shed light on the policies, conventions, and attitudes that led to the climate crisis and continue to sustain it today. Large-scale pieces by Matthew Colaizzo and Christopher McNulty document commonplace pollution and extractive industry in America, while smaller works by both artists subtly critique human efforts to dominate the natural world. In their own ways, Colaizzo and McNulty interrogate Modern ideals of “progress” that often underpin environmental destruction.

Byron Wolfe's Vanished Volcano Visualization Kit offers maps and models to help audience members envision Mount Tehama, an ancient volcano in Northern California that's almost entirely disappeared over the past 400,000 years due to natural erosion. The kit evokes the difficulty of processing environmental losses and imagining what once was, mental tasks required for contending with present-day issues like climate change and mass extinction. While Wolfe endeavors to see the distant past, Ana Mosquera envisions a dystopic climate future. Her Breathing Exchange Temporium, a woefully dysfunctional life raft and oxygen tank, forebodes mass climate migration and encapsulates life's precarity on a hotter planet, especially for those less privileged. 

A highlight of the exhibition is the first prototype of The Immersion Project, a collaboration between Austen Camille, Christine Lee, Rebecca Rutstein, Malte Leander, and oceanographers Erik Cordes, Ph.D. and Samantha Joye, Ph.D that incorporates large-scale coral-inspired sculptures, augmented reality animation and sound into a multi-sensory installation to educate the public about deep sea ecosystems. After a national exhibition tour, the sculptures will be installed in the Gulf of Mexico to help restore coral habitats damaged by the Deep Water Horizon oil spill in 2010. The project demonstrates one way that artists can contribute to climate solutions.

All of the artworks mentioned thus far will be on view at Tiger Strikes Asteroid. Two miles south of the gallery, at Cherry Street Pier, works by Lydia Cheshewalla, Hui-Ying Tsai, and Austen Camille encourage personal connection to the natural world and help audience members to see themselves as part of nature rather than above it. Such perspective can be a wellspring for environmentally-conscious action. Notably, Camille's large-scale augmented reality animation over the Delaware River, featuring music by Philadelphia's ENAensemble, will incorporate a live performance during the show's opening reception at Cherry Street Pier, on November 4th at 6 PM. At Tiger Strikes Asteroid, Camille’s AR animation within The Immersion Project and a second piece by Tsai—a collaboration with sound artist Jonathan Grover—tie the two venues together and bring notes of hope to the gallery.

For more information, please visit www.StAPhilly.com.

[stefike]

One of my photos was chosen as a finalist in the 20/20 Photo Festival Call For Entry: The Natural World. There are 24 finalists out of 155 submissions and 750 photos. The top 3 winning photographs of fellow photographers are pictured below.  

Please join me this Friday, September 1st, at Cherry Street Pier from 5:30-7 pm for the opening reception. The reception will include an informal panel discussion at 6PM with curator Ryan Strand Greenberg and the top prize winners. 

The Natural World is a continual source of inspiration and inquiry. Over the last 200 years, photography and science have evolved with our ambition to comprehend Earth's ancient processes, understand our place in the universe, and share knowledge and beauty with future generations. Landscape photographs have become almost ubiquitous in the canon of photographic history, appearing in magazines, academic journals, scrapbooks, galleries, community science projects, and home decor. The tradition of documenting the environment continues worldwide today as some photographers attempt to capture the effects of critical environmental issues such as biodiversity loss and climate change. 

Curated by Ryan Strand Greenberg, The Natural World is a collection of images by 24 photographers documenting today's environment. These photographs highlight the delicate balance between living organisms and habitats from Philadelphia to India. From endangered insects and monoculture farming to cell phone transmission towers disguised as trees and the erosion of a mountain belt, these photographs capture the uncanny convergence of distant past and present landscapes: a time capsule that helps describe the natural world today.

[valentinerose529]

The Ship That Sailed Through Time

A short story based on the prompt: a time traveler and an immortal make contact through the years.

I got inspired to write this after looking at a few too many port cities and old boats on a road trip. I wanted to capture the feeling of being disconnected from time and not being able to live in it, and whether you would chose to change that existence.

Fun fact, this story is an AU! Aiden and Ari are both original characters of mine with different backstories and skill sets than in this story, but have a similar motif of being from vastly different realms of life and connected across time.

Please do not repost!

i. portland, maine

Ariadne had always known the Turtledove, with its pearlescent sails and cherry-dark planks and figurehead carved into a lovely siren-woman. She had been born on this very deck and knew every inch of the ship by heart from the barnacle-encrusted hull to the crow’s nest on the highest mast.

She knew the crew by heart too, but had her favorites: Father, with his captain’s coat and salt-encrusted beard; Mother, the first mate, with her crumpled hat and salt-encrusted pistols; her grandfather’s first mate Lorri, who had graying hair and a tattoo that changed with the weather; Brandon and his matelot, who had both been on board since Ari had been too small to see over the railings; and the cook, Ladesha, who always slipped Ari some honey to temper the bitter ship coffee when her parents weren’t looking.

Ari had been the cabin girl for as long as she could remember. At first, she’d been too little to haul in the sails or climb up the rigging without getting blown around by the wind, but now she could help with all the regular ship duties and sometimes Father even let her steer the ship in calm weather.

──────◅▻���◅▻──────

The first time she met the boy, he was sorting crab traps on the dock. He was pale and smudgy enough that Ari first thought he was part of the dirty seafoam puddles, but a closer look proved him to be alive. He was a scrawny human with a mop of blond hair peeking out from the collar of his threadbare coat, and sat on the edge of the pier shivering from a recent dip in the ocean.

“Hi,” she told him, young and unafraid of strangers.

“Hi,” he agreed, deftly freeing a crab’s claws from the trap and tossing it into the bucket with a tinny thump.

“How old are you?” she asked, since she didn’t quite understand the land-living people yet.

He shrugged at her, making his sandy curls flop around. “Fifteen. And you?”

She didn’t know—nobody did on the ship—so she tossed out her favorite guess, “Nineteen. What are you gonna do with those?”

He tossed another crab into the bucket. “People will buy ‘em, of course. My boss owns the traps and pays me to swim out and fetch them.”

“Can I watch?”

“Why do you wanna watch this? It’s boring.”

“I live on a ship. Anything’s interesting.”

“When do you have to be back on your ship?”

“Not till evening, but Father won’t leave without me.”

He emptied the last trap and stood up, shaking the bucket to keep the crabs in. “Alright, I’ll show you something better. I watch out for the littler children on my block; they get up to all sorts of trouble. I bet you’ll like them.”

He led her deeper into the port city and introduced her to a gaggle of children in various sizes, a little one named Josiah and a willowy one named Grace and two named Edward, and the blond boy in the brown coat gave her no name at all so Ari had to call him, hey you.

They taught Ari to play hopscotch, and taught her how to fashion a spinning top out of a wooden spool, and the taller of the Edwards taught her how to steal a hot potato from the vendor on the street corner.

After the sun dipped down behind the buildings of the port city and the sky turned bruise-purple, Ari bid goodbye to her new friends. She committed all their names to heart, but the blond boy in the brown coat gave her no name at all. He smiled at her and said, “I’ll tell you when you come back to port.”

Ari smiled and hugged him, and ran away for the docks before she could say anything more. Because the truth of it was, she wouldn’t ever see him again in this time.

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

When Ari tromped back up the Turtledove’s gangplank, she found Mother negotiating passage with a harried-looking man in a suspiciously stained suit.

“We don’t know when we’ll arrive,” she warned the man. “Perhaps it’ll be tomorrow, perhaps two decades.”

“I don’t care,” the man said. “I just need to get away from Portland.”

Her mother nodded solemnly and discussed payment. Ari watched from the railing and thought the man was quite desperate, but her mother only charged him the regular rate.

(Adjusted for the decade’s inflation, of course.)

As the man and his stained sleeves disappeared below decks, her mother turned to Ari and said, “You should help your father so we can leave on time. Where have you been all day, my dear?”

“Oh, I made some new friends.”

“You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”

“Of course not,” Ari said, and slouched away to find her father.

Ari wasn’t allowed to tell strangers the truth of the Turtledove, not until she’d been on land longer and learned what her parents called discretion. She had never broken the rules, but her parents reminded her of it every time she stepped foot off the ship.

When she found her father directing the loading of the new cargo, he let her give the orders for stacking the cargo correctly, only speaking up to correct her if she made a mistake. All the crew knew that Ari was set to inherit the captain’s position when her father stepped down, a day she hoped would be far away in the future, so nobody protested her orders.

ii. chester, pennsylvania

The next time Ari met the boy, her hair had grown nearly to her waist and the world had changed. The ladies wore wide skirts and many men wore wigs, and the accents had changed just enough that Ari had to pause and think about every word a stranger said.

As she skipped down the gangplank, she felt the fishhooks of time catch at her skin and tangle in her unbraided hair, binding her to the rules of the land-living.

Ari’s job on shore was simple: have fun!

Oh, and there was some shopping for fresh food and new shoes for her and a coat for Brandon, but that wasn’t as important as exploring.

With her goals thus outlined, she wandered barefoot down the street, dodging carriages with the reckless invulnerability of a girl who had never before seen an angry horse.

And of course, like any carefree sailor not paying attention to the land traffic, she crashed into someone.

He stumbled and lost his footing—Ari planted her feet like she was onboard the storm-tossed ship—she caught the stranger and turned their fall into a weird spin.

“Thank you, miss,” he gasped, once they’d both recovered their balance.

“No, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she insisted, quickly letting go and stepping back.

He was short and spindly, blond hair wrestled into a tangled ponytail, and wearing a nice street suit that clashed with his threadbare coat. “Have we met before?” he asked.

“Oh, we couldn’t have. I’ve been sailing my whole life, and I’ve never been to this port before.”

“Your whole life? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?” he asked thoughtfully.

A thrill ran through her. She knew it wasn’t possible, but he certainly reminded her of someone she had seen in the last port. “I don’t think there was a last time, sir.”

“No, no. I suppose not,” he said slowly. “My apologies, miss…?”

At first she thought he had simply trailed off, but then she realized that he wanted her name. So of course, she gave it to him. “Ari, Ariadne Laurens. And you, sir?”

He gave her an odd little smile. “Aiden Murphy,” he said, and Ari repeated it under her breath until she was sure she wouldn’t forget this strange man with the patched coat and pretty face.

“I suppose I’d better be going.”

“Of course. Have a good day, miss. Safe sailing for the Turtledove.”

It wasn’t until after he had vanished into the crowd that Ari realized she had never told him what ship she crewed on.

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

During the next four days in port, Ari all her free time on land. She wasn’t supposed to—she still had nightmares about running too far from the docks and coming back to find the Turtledove sailing away without her—but this time she wanted to pay attention to the land as much as possible. If she had met the man in the threadbare coat more than once, what’s to say there weren’t other familiar things in this port?

A thorough search of the city resulted in Ari knowing exactly how many bricks paved the thoroughfare by the seawalls and the latest exchange rate for foreign currencies, but not a single familiar face or even slang she could understand.

She couldn’t even find the man in the threadbare coat again, so she began to wonder if he was a dream. What had his name been?

“Aiden,” she remembered aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” someone said behind her, and she nearly startled herself off her seat on the pier.

As if she had summoned him out of the passing traffic with her voice, the man in the threadbare coat stood behind her with a confused expression. He looked completely unchanged—but of course, it’d only been a few days for the land-living.

“You are real!” she said, delighted. His expression deepened.

“I should hope I am, miss. Can I help you?”

“Yes… well, no, I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out if we’ve met before. Before I ran into you ereyesterday, I mean.”

“If I may say so, miss, you remind me of someone I met many years ago. But as you say, you’re only nineteen, and it was…” he trailed off.

Ari didn’t want to know how many years ago it had been exactly, so she asked instead, “What if it had been me? What would you do? What would we do again?”

He shrugged. “I could teach you how to play hopscotch again.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “It is you! But shouldn’t you be much older?”

“I could ask you the same question, miss.”

“I’m not allowed to tell. Sorry.”

“No, I understand. We all keep our secrets.”

She nodded, and swung her feet below the pier. “You know, I never get to see anything inland. Is there anything interesting happening over there?”

He sat down on the top of the neighboring pillar a short distance away, close enough that she could still swing her foot in the waves and splash his ankles. “Well, up north in Concord, there’s a tree that sings.”

“Do they usually do that?”

“No, never! But I’ve seen it; the tree sings. Nothing I could understand, though. Some people even take the broken branches and make instruments out of them. The dead wood never sings again, but supposedly any music played on them makes crops grow sweeter than anything you’ve tasted before…”

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

Ari bid Aiden goodbye that evening as the tide receded, feeling the gazes of her parents from the deck of the Turtledove. She wasn’t supposed to promise to see people again, because she might never see them again. But Ari had the sudden and selfish wish to hear more of his outlandish stories, so she leaned in and whispered, “I don’t know when we’ll arrive, but we’ll make port in Morehead City next. If you’re there, it’d be nice to see you again.”

He nodded. “I’ll try to make it there on time.”

She laughed, but couldn’t tell him why she found it funny, so she just skipped up the gangplank and waved goodbye from the railing.

iii. morehead city, north carolina

A score of years later, the Turtledove docked in Morehead City. To the crew’s surprise, there had been a sugar shortage in the city perhaps a year before they arrived, and their cargo of packed sugar and solid cane was suddenly worth a fortune.

After the sugar had been sold, Ari went for a walk onshore, hoping to find a familiar face. None turned up, so she returned to the ship in low spirits.

She found old Lorri on the dock, playing their flute for a man in a threadbare brown coat. “Ari,” they said when they saw her. “This gentleman came asking for you by name. Do you know him?”

Ari looked at the man, examining his sugar-brown face and seafoam-pale hair until she remembered his name. “Aiden!” she guessed delightedly. He broke into a smile.

“I thought you’d never arrive! You said you’d dock here next, but it’s been—”

Lorri shushed him loudly, gesturing with their flute. “Don’t tell us, lad; I don’t need to know how fast the land-living is.”

Aiden buttoned up his lips. Then he offered Ari his arm like a perfect gentleman. “Walk with me, miss?”

Ari did not invite him on board the ship, and he did not ask to come on. It went unspoken that one did not step on board the Turtledove unless you were willing to give up some time.

They found a place to sit away from the salty bustle of the docks, and Ari nearly screamed when all the street lamps turned on without a single lamplighter in sight.

Aiden laughed and gave her a lesson about the curious invention of electricity—lightning! Imprisoned in wires! Who could believe it? —and then they sat and talked until the moon was high and the wind came in cold from the water. When Ari started to shiver, Aiden quickly handed her his coat, so they sat closer together to stay warm and talked for even longer.

“Are you still nineteen?” he asked eventually.

“I think I’m a bit older,” she said, after trying and failing to figure out the math. She wasn’t land-living, so the time never passed the same. But of course she was older, if only by a little. “What about you?”

He laughed. “I’m definitely not fifteen anymore.”

“How old are you, then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Seventy-five, by my last count,” he said, and she made a surprised sound.

“That’s impossible.”

“Said you wouldn’t believe me, but it’s true.”

“How?”

“That’s my secret.”

“Alright,” she said, and subsided, because she’d promised before. “Tell me something else?”

Aiden scooted closer into the coat, taking her wrist and making her yelp at his chilly fingers, before he told her a story about sailors who tricked fairies and fishermen who ate hurricanes. She doubted it was true, but it whiled away the hours and at the end she forgot her original question.

Four days later, the Turtledove was loaded and ready to sail, but for the first time Ari wished the crew wasn’t quite so efficient. She stood with Aiden at the base of the gangplank, one foot resting against the plank as if she had stopped midstep.

“I’ll see you… later, I guess,” Aiden said, pulling up the collar of his coat against the wind.

Ari could only say, “Yeah,” and scuff her heavy boot against the dock. After a moment, she lifted her necklace off her head—a pretty one made of conch shells and blue waxed twine—and offered it to Aiden. “Here, why don’t you hold on to this? You can give it back to me in… Yarmouth.”

He examined it carefully before hanging it around his neck. “I’ll keep it safe,” he said solemnly—as if it were a far older treasure than a necklace only a hundred years old—and tucked it inside his collar. “Do you always arrive after the same amount of time has passed?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never paid attention before. But next time, why don’t you tell me when I arrive, and I’ll keep track of how much time passes?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve never had a reason to want to know before.”

When Ari joined Father by the wheel, he gestured for her to take it. She eagerly grabbed it with both hands, but before she moved, she looked back at the port behind the ship. She could almost imagine time passing as she sailed away, people living and growing and dying and through it all a man in a shabby brown coat waving goodbye from the vacant dock.

Ari reminded herself that she wasn’t part of the land-living, gripping the wheel tighter and turning it firmly away from port.

iv. yarmouth, nova scotia

Many years and two ports later, the Turtledove sailed up the Canadian coastline to the bustling port of Yarmouth, which was filled with towering steamboats and slender canal rowboats. After they docked and unloaded the cargo, Lorri informed the captain that they wished to retire.

“Oh, must you go, Lorri?” Father cried. “We’ll miss you so much. You may never see us again.”

“I know, lad,” Lorri said, standing straight and solemn with their hat in their hands. “But I reckon I’ve spent enough life on the sea. I want to see the land—what’s left of it. Some of the old folks in my favorite pub have been telling stories of the logging and the railroads and everything that’s torn down. I think I have some great-great-grandnieces and nephews still alive, and I’d like to see some of the good parts of the land-living before it’s all gone.”

“I understand,” Father sighed, and subsided. “But is Canada really where you want to disboard? We could take you back over to the Spanish coast.”

“With respect, lad, I’d like to stay in this time,” Lorri said softly, and that settled it.

So the crew said their goodbyes, and Lorri packed their things and said goodbye to everyone once again, before wiping their eyes and striding resolutely down the gangplank.

Ari watched them leave, and then found a quiet corner on the pier to sit and have a good cry about her lost family member. They weren’t dead yet, but they could very well be by the next time they docked, and Ari wasn’t ready for this kind of mourning.

A figure appeared over her, a dark shadow against the sun that resolved into a skinny man with a mop of blond curls and a threadbare coat tossed over his shoulder.

“I had to learn French for you,” Aiden said, by way of greeting. He held out his hand, her necklace looped around his fingers. “Hallo, miss.”

“Hallo, Aiden. Has it been long?”

“Oh, not at all. At least, not for me.”

“It’s never a long time for me, either.” She twirled the end of her braid around her finger. “Lorri retired. The elderly sailor with the flute.”

Aiden nodded, but didn’t respond.

“So, there’s an opening on board, if you… like sailing.”

“If I find someone to be a good fit, I’ll let you know,” he said gently. Ari nodded, looking away from him. She had offered, and he had declined, so that was that.

She fidgeted with her necklace, lost on what to say. Long pauses were fine onboard the Turtledove, but the land-living were too impatient in such conversations. Aiden, however, didn’t seem to mind letting it stretch out until she found her words. “Lorri was like my family. They were the oldest crewmate of the Turtledove and it’s like… they were always there, never going to falter or get washed away. And now… I probably won’t ever see them again.”

“Probably not,” Aiden agreed, and her head snapped up to stare at him. He continued, “But you’ll always remember them. You’ve got a different way to look at the world, and I don’t think you forget things as easily, do you?”

She shook her head, and tried to take this to heart. She had a place deep in her heart for all her fondest memories about her old friend, and the crew would whistle Lorri’s favorite tunes for years to come. “Thanks,” she said. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “Because I’m amazing. Also, I’m very old and I’ve lost people before.” He rummaged in his pockets and held something out to her. “Here. Why don’t you hold onto this until you see me next?”

When she took it, she found it to be a round stone, once gray and roughly cut but worn smooth and shiny from years of rubbing. Her thumb fit perfectly into the depressed face.

“Isn’t it important to you?”

“So you’ll have to see me again to give it back,” he said, smiling. Ari returned the smile and tucked the worry stone into her pocket, realizing how quickly he’d lifted her mood.

“Whatever happened to those little pickpocketing magicians you met in Florida?” she asked, remembering one of his stories. He tossed an arm over her shoulders (no easy task when he was quite a bit shorter than she) and guided her down the dock to a little restaurant free of the smell of fishnets, chattering all the way about what those pickpockets had gotten up to in the decades since he had last been south to Florida.

v. alexandra, virginia

By the next voyage, Ari’s hair reached all the way down to her knees and her father let her call out the sailing orders sometimes. She and Aiden kept up the excuse of exchanging trinkets and favors and making the other return them in the next port. It kept them dancing around the real thing they wished to share with each other. Ari dreamed of taking Aiden with her on the open seas and never having to lose him to the passage of time, and he clearly wanted to take her along on his adventures instead of only recounting them to her during their short meetings in the years. But Ari had never again asked him to board the Turtledove, and leaving her beloved ship to join the land-living would surely take her away from Aiden in a few short decades.

So instead, they only treasured their moments together and eagerly looked forward to the next ones.

Today, there was a patter of running feet on the dock, and then someone climbed up the side of the ship. A widely grinning face surrounded by the hood of a threadbare coat appeared over the railing. “Hallo, miss!” Aiden said, leaning over just enough to knock his fist against Ari’s shoulder.

“Hallo, Aiden,” she said, instinctively brushing his pretty hair out of his eyes before remembering her manners and quickly pulling back her hand. Aiden hooked his feet into the net over the side of the ship and clung comfortably to the railing.

“How’s it been? Anything exciting, or sailing as usual?”

“Sailing as usual, of course. An ocean liner found us on the open seas this voyage, and tried to convince us to let them take the Turtledove to the nearest port. It took us ages to make the captain believe that we weren’t a replica from a port museum or a ghost ship. I think the captain only agreed because we wouldn’t let him onboard, and he had to hang in a lifeboat between the ships to talk to Father.”

“Why couldn’t he come onboard?”

This stopped Ari short. And suddenly she realized that she had never told Aiden about the magic of the Turtledove. They both pretended that being different from the rest of the land-living was perfectly normal and never again had asked each other to share their secrets.

She looked around. Nobody else was around; she had the sudden urge to break the rules for Aiden, just this once. You could never tell the secret of the Turtledove to anyone who wasn’t onboard the ship, but Aiden was almost onboard, wasn’t he?

So she said, in a low voice, “As long as you’re on board the Turtledove, you’re apart from the rest of the land-living. You don’t age, and you don’t die.”

“Really?” he said, in a tone that she knew meant he was extremely curious. “So that’s why you’re always the same. I thought… ah, nevermind.”

“Wait, what’d you think? You have to tell me now.”

“Oh, fine; I thought you were like me. But we clearly aren’t the same, so… yeah, nevermind.”

“What are you like?” she pressed. Having shared her secret, she wanted to know his.

He shrugged and nearly slipped off the railing. “I’m immortal, I guess. Unlike you, I do age; I just live longer than everyone else.”

Ari struggled to find a response; the magic of the Turtledove was familiar and expected, but the magic of Aiden was uncharted water to her. “What are the rules?”

“What?”

“You know; on the Turtledove, you can only enter and leave in a port for it to work right. If you exit at sea, all your years catch up to you at once and then you die. And it only changes time on board; I’ll start aging the moment I jump over the railing with you.”

Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know my rules, but I’ve never broken them yet. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“But you won’t know what the rules are until it’s too late,” she protested.

“Maybe I won’t. But I’m not going to go do stupid things trying to figure it out; that’d end badly.”

“Why, Aiden, you say that like you’ve never done stupid things.”

“But of course; only the most sensible plans for me! Certainly I’ve never tried to wrangle a dragon—did I ever tell you about the time out west when I found a dragon in a gold mine?”

“Well, let me get comfortable…” Ari dragged a crate over to the railing and perched primly on it, then gestured for Aiden to continue. He readjusted his grip on the railing to be able to gesticulate with one hand, and then launched into a tale that began with an utterly boring train ride across the Great Plains and took most of the evening to tell.

vi. a few years off the coast of ireland

Ari didn’t see Aiden in the next port, and so she couldn’t tell him to meet her in the one after that. She despaired privately that perhaps he had finally broken the rules of his immortality and fallen prey to land-living. Certainly times were changing, and few ports even had a place for the Turtledove to dock amongst the bulky ocean liners and streamlined electric motorboats.

And this was only the first change to a routine that had stretched across centuries, because one day her parents called her into the captain’s quarters for a discussion.

“Ari, I’m stepping down,” Father said. “I’ve been captain for long enough, and I think it’s your time now.”

“What? No, you can’t!” Ari said, voice thick in her throat. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, darling, we won’t leave,” Mother assured her. “We’ll sail with you for quite a while longer. But we agree it’s your turn to be captain. You know the world of the land-living better than we do, I think.”

“Only because of my—of Aiden, and I haven’t seen him in the last ports,” she protested.

“But you’re willing to pay attention to what’s beyond the ports,” Father pressed. “There’s less of the ocean than there was when I started sailing. You’ll need that knowledge, and your friends on land.”

Ari flung her arms around her father and said into his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Her mother took off her hat and put it on Ari’s head, and Ari imagined the weight that came with it settling onto her back. She’d been dreaming of this day for decades, but now she couldn’t even find her best friend to tell about it.

Had he broken his rules and paid the price for immortality? Or had he simply forgotten her and moved on like the rest of the land-living?

vii. trenton, new jersey

“Captain Ariadne?” someone said from behind her, his voice hesitating on her rank. Ari turned. A smudgy man in a threadbare coat stood on the gangplank, nervously twisting his fingers around and around his other wrist.

“Hallo, Aiden. How long has it been?”

“Long enough, Ari. Congratulations, I see you’re captain now?”

She shrugged. “Oh, am I? I wondered where the hat came from.”

“I think it’s dashing.”

She let the comfortable silence fall, and moved to walk down the gangplank. But before she joined him in the land-living, he said quickly, “So I guess that means you have an opening on board?”

Her heart sang. “Do you know someone who wants the position?”

“I don’t know the first thing about boats, but would you take me on?”

She could have picked him up and spun around the deck in her excitement, but reminded herself to be professional. “We don’t know when we’ll arrive,” she warned.

“That’s alright,” Aiden said, taking her hands. “I don’t care when we end up. It’s the journey I want.”

Fin.

[mabeobhqs]

Mabeob event: THE INEO FESTIVAL!!

with the rain finally subsiding and the sun warming the sands of mabeob, it's time to formally welcome spring with the local ineo festival! the locals celebrate the mermaid of mabeob, the local community, and the bounty they have been given the year before. the streets will be lit and filled with activities for all ages.

the attraction that always gains the most interest is the section that celebrates mabeob magic. even if you don't really believe in magic, it'll still be a fun time. palm and tea leaf readings, fortunes, and blessings are all given to anyone who wants them, free of charge. whether you want to know if you'll find the love of your life this year, have a charm blessed for good health or a flourishing love life, or know who you were in a past life-- all of that and more will be available.

you can't forget the food and snacks available. who can have a good time on an empty stomach, hm? a delicacy of mabeob is the beautiful raindrop cakes filled with cherry blossoms and topped with brown sugar and honey. these treats are almost too beautiful to eat but you have to make sure you grab one! be sure to also grab a watermelon punch or omija-cha fresh from mabeob's own ingredients. if none of those interest you, there's sure to be a street vendor offering something that will tempt your palette.

we can't forget the games. for the children, bring them by the duck pond to fish out a duck-- everyone is a winner at this game! figure yourself for a marksman? we have knock down the bottles for a prize and darts where each balloon holds a wonderful surprise inside. want something less competitive and more fun? try out rope bridge and see if you can make it all the way across. whether it's for fun or for glory, we have a game for you!

at the end of the night, as the celebration is coming to a close everyone will be handed a flower lantern to write a wish within that they hope to come true this year. before you leave for the night, make sure you launch your lantern off the pier so the mermaid can see your heart's wish and grant it for you!

ooc: A small event for our dear members to have fun! The event will last one day ic but ooc will be a whole week ending next week (may 15th) with the flower lanterns. if you wish for your muse to participate in a stall on the festival feel free to do so! You are also free to stop or keep going with your current threads while doing event ones! If you have any questions please message the main!

[regiqoa]

7. Reverse you and your FO's roles! How would things be different? - for Leon and Raihan!

9. If your FO had a blog what would it be about? Would they tag you in things? Would they tag anything at all? How would they respond to anon hate? - For Leon, Raihan, Piers and Guzma!!!

7. Leon: Wow!! If our roles were reversed, then Leon would move away from the Galar region to Kanto as a child while I would become Champion! Interesting! Cherri the Pikachu would still be my ace and I'm pretty sure I would hold myself up very well as Champion, modesty aside. As for Leon? He'd want to go back to the Galar region because he knows deep in his heart that the Kanto region is not where he belongs rather than wanting to rekindle our friendship. When he sees that I became Champion, man, he'd be my biggest fan X3 I like to think that he went to Postwick to revive some memories and sees me going back home and we end up rekindling our friendship. Romantic/sexual tension starts building up and he decides to take on the Gym Challenge to reach me. When our match is announced a tie, Leon's the one who starts complimenting me and telling me how much he missed me. He says he thought the reason he returned to Galar was to come back to the place where he belonged and that is true, but not the Galar region, but next to me. The rest is history ;3

Raihan: Raihan as a Gym Trainer and me as a Gym Leader is interesting. I would have succeeded in taking Opal's position as Gym Leader (Bede who?) and the lead baker. I think the way Raihan and I would meet would be if he went to Ballonlea for a pastry and finds out that I'm the Gym Leader AND the lead baker! And then he starts flirting with me and we start getting closer ;3

9. Leon would run a personal blog about positivity, for Pokemon and people alike, information and observations on them, updates on his life, like me and his children we have, pictures and food. Things are neatly tagged and he'd tag me in cute things and even talk about "My wife would love this". He would ignore anon hate, block and move on.

Raihan would run a blog about mythology! Things about dragons and history! He would respond passive-aggressively to anon hate, then block and move on. He'd also post pictures and selfies and would tag me in food/pastries he encounters.

Piers would run a music blog, obviously. Songs, artists, musicians, rock n' roll and all that jazz, no pun intended. He would tag his triplets in Beatles and Queen stuff and tag his daughter in trans rights things, asking her questions and stuff. Speaking of which, lemme tell you he would also not appreciate the way Tumblr treats straight trans people and all the woke/SJW culture. He would ROAST the anon haters with the best case of Brutal Honesty in existence. He would tag me in cats and would tease me about Freddie Mercury stuff SO MUCH.

"This you old musician crush before me, babe?"

"Shut up"

Guzma would run a blog with bugs, music, rap artists, art, food and all sorts of street stuff. He would post about bug facts, poetry, pictures of Bug-types he found and befriended, chains, grafitti and... thoughts when he's high, lol. Dude, do NOT send this man anon hate. Because he will go after all sorts of information about you and DESTROY you verbally. You're NEVER gonna live it down. He knows Alola and its people like the back of his hand, I know he can do it.

Thank you!

[newsssc]

Why Kamala Harris Won’t Ban Fracking

US Vice President and Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris speaks at a watch party after … [+] a presidential debate with former US President and Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump at the Cherry Street Pier in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on September 10, 2024. (Photo by Jim WATSON / AFP) (Photo by JIM WATSON/AFP via Getty Images) AFP via Getty Images During a heated…

[corporate-comedy]

(via Corporate Team Building & Leadership Training thru Improv Workshops & Immersive Shows)

Corporate Events

The New York Improv Theater is a one stop edutainment center for corporate team building, office / holiday parties and more. Our comedy shows and workshops deliver high impact results. Clients include Google, Merck, Mercedes Benz, META /Facebook, TikTok, JP Morgan Chase, Accenture, Morgan Stanley, Twitter, Roblox, Rimowa, EI Digital, Accenture, Datadog HQ, Milbank, BING/Microsoft, Band of America – Merrill Lynch, Home Depot, Ernst & Young, Johnson & Johnson, Louis Vuitton, Coach, UBS, BDO, AMEX, Master Card, Macy’s, 360i, IBM, GM, Kraft, UNILEAVER, HBO, Prudential, Convene, Conference Board and many more… (NYC DOE VENDORS)

College / University Tour

EIGHT IS NEVER ENOUGH Improv Comedy show has played the big stages (500+ seats) and smaller intimate venues (50-200) and even Greek Houses of Syracuse, Seton Hall, Princeton, Georgetown, Vaughn, Molloy University, Montclair State University, Bloomberg College, High Point University, Williams College, Lynchburg College, Southern New Hampshire University, Ferris State, Mount Isa, Misericordia, Sacred Heart, Hastings College, Pace University, Vaughn, College Misericordia, University of Vermont, Stone Hill University, Yeshiva University, Columbia University, NYU, Hofstra University, Cooper Union, John Jay College, Fordham University and more.

More Improv Touring Nationwide

Additionally, EIGHT IS NEVER ENOUGH has toured 1000s of public and private events at The Smithsonian Portrait Gallery, Wolf Trap, The Argyle Theater, Emelin Theater, Gerold Opera House, 72nd Street Pier, Cherry Point Marine Base, Disney Resorts, Ohio National Guard, Connecticut DCF, First Nights Winchester VA, Binghamton First Night, Haddonfield First Night, Chateau Briand, Babylon Carriage House, retirement homes, numerous libraries, YMCA, JCC, Parks and Recreation, 1000s of k12 schools and summer camps in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Florida, Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Nebraska.

Artistic Director, Walt Frasier has 25+ years of professional credits in comedy, Theater and music. He got his big break in TV performing comedy sketches on MTV’s Stankervision, Late Nite with David Letterman, TruTV’s Friends of the People, and most recently on HBO’s Pause with Sam Jay. As an actor, Frasier has appeared on NBC’s Blacklist, CBS’s Blue Bloods, USA’s Royal Pains (Filmed in Puerto Rico), Netflix’s Lilyhammer (filmed in Norway) and NICK’s Naked Brothers Band. In addition to 1000s of live performances around the world, Frasier has also appeared in numerous commercials, industrials, webisodes and reality TV shows.

[mcgiggers]

New York - September 2024

Just back from the Armory and related art festivities in the Big Apple which also hosted the US Open and New York Fashion Week. The eclectic mix of aficionados made for a raucous and visually entertaining backdrop for the supercharged events. On the art front, the Armory Show was center stage as it celebrated its 30th edition and its second at the revamped Javits Center. Other fairs visited were Independent 20th Century and Art on Paper. While the sheer proliferation of fairs in the last decade can inevitably result in hit or miss experiences, the gatherings nevertheless offer the opportunity to see thousands of works by a broad range of local and international artists all under one roof which, with some patience and visual filtering, always yields marvelous art finds.

This year the Armory featured over 235 leading galleries representing more than 35 countries. The notable absence of the mega-galleries and smaller overall international representation gave the fair a more local feel with an energized NYC vibe. The smorgasbord of primarily post-war contemporary offerings ranged from figurative to abstract with a hint of conceptual. The Javits Center easily accommodated the bulked-up size of the fair, and the comfortable spacing and layout enhanced the viewing experience.  Some highlights included: Deni Lantz’s dreamy John Zurier-inspired “Untitled”, 2024, oil and beeswax on canvas (72.0 x 59.84 in.); Anouk Lamm Anouk’s ethereal “post/pre Nº 64”, 2023, acrylic on linen (19.75 x 21.63 in.); Paul Feeley’s iconically shaped “Untitled (January 29)”, 1962, oil-based enamel on canvas (57 x 81 in.); and, Sara Siestreem (Hanis Coos)’s playful “foxes on the moon”, 2024, acrylic, graphite, Xerox transfer on panel board (49 x 72 in.).

Independent 20th Century fair was more highbrow. From a gallery perspective, that might be fine if the right people are showing up; from a fair goer perspective, the offering was more nuanced. Set in the historic Battery Maritime Building for the second year in a row, the smallish 32-exhibitor show primarily championed artists that applied their trade between 1900 and 2000. The highlights included: Squeak Carnwath’s painted patterns and thoughts in “Dick & Jane”, 1996, oil and alkyd on canvas (76 x 102 in.); Tom Fairs’ nightscape “Untitled”, c. 1998-99, mixed media on heavy paper (30 x 22 in.); and Rebecca Ward’s translucent “king ranch lll”, 2013, bleach on canvas (40 x 30 in.).

Art on Paper continued its run on the courts of Basketball City on Pier 36 and celebrated its tenth edition with a 100-gallery roster featuring top modern and contemporary paper-based art. On a relative basis, the offering was probably the most accessible from a price point perspective compared to that of other fairs which likely contributed to its enthusiastic appreciation by art fans.  Highlights included: David Richardson’s “White Roses #3”, 2024, chalk on paper (14 x 11 in.); Simone Christen’s “Moment of Bliss l”, 2023, ink on raw linen (30 x 24 x 1.5 in.); and Herman Cherry’s “Untitled #35”, 1968, oil on rag paper (18.25 x 23 in.).

One of the most impressive sights viewed during the New York visit was a billboard by Glenn Ligon spotted from the High Line at 18th Street and 10th Avenue. This new version of “Untitled (America/Me)” spans 25 x 75 ft and features an altered image of Ligon’s iconic 14 ft 2008 “Untitled” which stretches 14 ft across spelling out the word “AMERICA” in neon lights that flicker on and off.  In 2022, Ligon revisited “Untitled” by creating a print, the original “Untitled (America/Me)”, that manipulated a photograph of the neon by drawing X’s through letters leaving only M and E untouched. The billboard is a reprisal of that modest sized print (14 x 11 in., edition of 50) on a gargantuan level, magnifying perhaps the polarized state of affairs in America today.  

Meanwhile back in Hogtown, it’s time to heat up the grill with BBQ season nearly upon us. The burning question is who is going to run with the Barnes, Barrett and Quickley trio. The Big Austrian is a prime candidate in the middle, but who will suit up at the number 4 spot? The ask is for a 6’8” 240 lbs. defensive stalworth that can guard in space, run the floor and knock down 3’s at a 38% plus clip. The current roster’s cast of characters are not obvious candidates. Tricky Dicky, Kelly Canuk and B-Squared each fall short in a few categories. As the auditioning plays out in training camp and the pre-season, there may be some surprises among the lesser known and yet unproven entities on the payroll, but hope is not a strategy. The whole spells for some uncertainty regarding the upcoming season. Barring injuries, the Dinos may be good enough to better last season’s record of 25-67, but probably not good enough to make a splash beyond a play-in round. With that prospect, Sensei Masai’s hand will not be far from the tank button. In the interim, Coach Darko will have to manage as best as he can and be ready to pivot at any time.

For more information on any of the artists or works mentioned, and the starting lineup for the Dinos, “Just Google It”.

There you have it sportsfans,

MC Giggers

(https://mcgiggers.tumblr.com) Reporter’s Certification

I, MC Giggers, hereby certify that the views expressed in this report accurately reflect my personal views and that no part of my compensation was or will be, directly or indirectly, related to the specific views expressed herein.

I also certify that I may or may not own, directly or indirectly, works of artists mentioned in this report and that I may or may not have a strong bias for such artists and, more generally, for “Pictures of Nothing”.

[minkeytwo]

Sunday 26th May

Bill’s Speidel’s Underground Tour at Pioneer Square led us through the old Seattle burnt down in 1889 and built upon to form the present day city.

Lunch at Cherry Street cafe was free because the till broke, a big tip to the staff made it even. We found the Waterfall Garden before walking past some totems along to Pier 57. We dined at the Purple Bar and Cafe.

[mnchrmdrms]

Cherry on Top

Waves of heat rise from the asphalt, cooking Cody and everything else stalking the streets. Even at night the heat is stifling. A whopping 87 degrees fahrenheit on this metro city evening and projected to skyrocket over the next few days. Work hadn’t been easy, he’d been lucky enough to smooze his way into a moving gig shuffling around equipment on the pier for some kind of business that was preparing to go out of it. Followed by a little pit fight, his pockets were about as heavy as his eyes. All this manual labor is going to catch up to him and he can only pray, as he opens the door to his shitty apartment, that that night is not tonight

[certaincircuitsmagazine]

L-R: Rachel Blythe Udell, Jenna McGraw, Suki Valentine, Ash Garner - THECOLORG, Phillip Chang & Paul Vo, Jamie Campbell, Joanna Fulginiti,  May Maani

Cherry Street Pier Resident Bonnie MacAllister (Studio 16) juried an open call to find fellow Philly artists working in non-traditional fibers.  Phantastic Phibers creates an atmosphere of industrial, fiber optic, hyperbolic, puppetry, soft sculpture, no waste weaving,  and non traditional textiles.  The exhibition  transports the pier into a nautilus full of suspended materials including recycled electronics and bicycle parts, a nine foot tunnel, a series of birds, a cursed sweater, a quilt poem, enormous weavings, a tower of electrical cord baskets, giant fish, deconstructed silks, and sea monsters.  Two and three dimensional work will fill the gallery space and second floor.

The exhibition showcases collaborative pieces from Phillip Chang and Paul Vo, May Maani and Chris Lau, Rachel Udell and Jeremy Newman, Bonnie MacAllister and Ndokaa Bundu, and MacAllister and Jamie Campbell as well as work from Joanna Fulginiti,

Suki Valentine, Aja Beech, Bennett Cafarelli, Kristina Behler, Ericha Fletcher, Caroline Maw-Deis, Jenna McGraw, Yvette Malloy-Jiggetts, Ash Garner-THECOLORG,  Jennifer Ahearn,  and Jenny Lee Maas.  

The Philadelphia Drunken Knitwits (begun in Oxford) are providing textures around the perimeter of the pier, their second large scale knitbombing installation after they covered government buildings in the UK.

The exhibition reception features video, performance,  &  fiber by the 2024 cohort  @ cherrystreetpier

[blinkaholik1]

American Art

Stephanie Koch Media 111 South Michigan Avenue Chicago, IL 60601 Art Institute of Chicago (168) The HelenBowen Blair Gallery Looking Glass 1790/1810 New York, New York Gilt gesso, pine, and eglomise Gift of the Antiquarian Society, 1925.100 Pier Table 1790/1810 Baltimore, Maryland Mahonogany, yellow popular, white oak, yellow pine, and marble Corner, Basin Stand 1780/1800 Connecticut or New Jersey Mahogany with white pine and cherry James J. and Marshall Field Fund, Jeffrey Shedd gift of Mrs. John Paul Welling, 1991.205.12 (169) The Robert R. McMormick Gallery American, 17801819 Mantel 1818 Wood Restricted gift of the Antiquarian Society, 1951.266 Possibly “stimp” (active about 1820) Oil on panel Restricted gift of the Antiquarian Society Quinn E. Delaney Fund; restricted gift of Mrs. Herbert A. Vance, Charles C. Hafferner III, and Jan Pavlovic, 2011.44 The fireplace and hearth served as the center of eighteenth and early nineteenthcentury American homes. In larger houses that had fireplaces in more than one room, they were often, “dressed up” with paintings hung about the mantel and fireboards. The latter were especially common during the during summer months, when they were utilized to beautify the gapping hole of the unused fireplace. This fireboard was painted right around 1820, when John Moseley completed the construction of a house on Main Street North In Southbury, Connecticut. reserve.ChicagoBooth.edu transcription 01/09/2019