#kitchen lithograph

[vspomnisolnce]

My old prints

[shintobufoart]

[cypressure]

Fractal Ammonite, Tubercule Ammonite, and Ammonite 1, foil lithographs, 2024

backstory: a few months ago i led a demonstration in "kitchen lithography" for an art fair, which was challenging not least because it had been over a year since i last worked with that process. these are a few of the prints i made while re-teaching myself over the summer

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Desperately need the next part for summer session I WANT TO KNOW IF IM NOT A CHICKEN FOR MISS SANA PLSANDJSJS

here it is!!

SUMMER SESSION III

2.9K words 

CW: scissoring, face sitting, other gay activity using toys ;)

AN: this is most likely the last installment!

[Sana x F!Reader] 

Requested: Yes

“You’re gonna run out of clothes, bestie,” Chaeyoung said, “And time.” 

“Ugh,” you replied, readjusting your phone to give the tiny version of your friend on FaceTime a better view. “I know I know, just tell me what you think.” You stepped back into the frame of your full length mirror so Chaeyoung could get a glimpse of your outfit. She leaned in toward the screen, trying to get a better look. 

Clothes that didn’t feel right littered your floor, bed, and hung haphazardly on hangers in your wide open closet. This was your fourth outfit change and you were about to start sweating. “Well?” 

Chaeyoung took in your outfit– a simple white tank with a cropped, textured, short sleeve lilac button up over it, and dark denim shorts. 

“You look…” she paused. “Well, gay. Okay great! Now hurry up and add a watch or some jewelry so you can go!” 

You rolled your eyes a little, picking up your phone and reaching for the jewelry stand on your dresser. “Just gay? Oh whatever, as long as I don’t look stupid.”

The blonde-haired girl beamed at you from her New York City studio apartment. “She’ll like it,” she said, then smirked. “But you didn’t need any help from me for this, really. Not when those clothes are gonna end up coming off anyway!” 

“Hey!” 

Her burst of laughter cut off your chances of getting a smart reply in. Chae waved at you. “My job here’s done. I gotta go meet a few friends now but good luuuuuck!” Her sing-songy voice cut off as the call ended. 

You thought about sending her a snarky reply via text, but when you put on your watch and saw how close to seven it was, you decided to forgo it. Instead, you opened the chat you had going with Sana as you locked the door behind you, told her you’d be there soon, then headed for the train station. 

Sana’s apartment was modern and clean, but still very personalized to her style. As she showed you around her kitchen and living space, a few things caught your eye. 

“Is that like… vintage Betty Boop?” you asked. 

Sana smiled at you. “Yeah,” she said, glancing up at the framed image hanging on her wall. “One of two hundred original, signed, limited edition lithographs.” She blushed a little. “I uh, I really like Betty Boop. She’s just so cute! Yet sexy...”

Her bookshelf caught your eye, too. But not for the books. In fact, only the bottom shelf had books. The rest held other personal belongings of hers. The top shelves were dedicated to perfume bottles– some new, some that must have been a few decades old. The middle shelves were full of small photos and knickknacks. 

You pointed at a photo of Sana with a couple other girls on either side of her. “Who are they?” you asked, suddenly noticing just how many photos she had with the two other dark haired girls. One of them had a cute, shy gummy smile and distinct beauty marks. The other girl had a long, shoulder length wolf cut with bangs that lay perfectly across her forehead. She was intimidatingly pretty, just like the other girl. 

“My best friends from home,” Sana replied, picking up the framed photo. “That’s Mina,” she said, pointing to the girl with the beauty marks. She pointed to the girl with the wolf cut. “And that’s Momo!” 

“Wow,” you said. “How long have you known each other?” 

Sana paused to think. “It’s been…gosh, maybe ten years? It feels like I’ve known them forever, though. I’m trying to convince them to visit next summer.” 

You smiled as she set the framed photo back in its place on her shelf. “I hope they do,” you said. “They seem cool.” 

When you were done admiring Sana’s space, the two of you ordered food. As you waited for it to arrive, you hung out on Sana’s couch while she introduced you to her favorite kr&b duo, UJB. While you acquainted yourself with the duo’s two idols, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, Sana made mixed drinks for the both of you. 

“Their music is so good,” you said when she sat back down and handed you a glass. “Okay be real– do you have a favorite out of the two?”

Sana laughed, a sound you liked the more you heard it. “I love them both a lot,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her drink. “Obviously. But if I had to choose…” she nodded toward the shorter, raven-haired woman on the screen. “It’d be Jihyo.” 

When your food finally arrived, you arranged it carefully on Sana’s coffee table while she refreshed drinks for the both of you and grabbed plates and cutlery. The mouthwatering scent of bulgogi, spicy pork, steamed mixed veggies, rice and summer salad filled the room. Sana came back with not only drinks, but two tiny shot glasses and a fresh bottle of soju. 

“What’s all this?” you asked, eyeing the shot glasses as you reached for a napkin and plate. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sana said, reaching for the remote. “But I’ve always wanted to try…” she pulled up Jennifer’s Body, ready to stream. “...the drinking game to this.” 

“Oh, sure,” you said, filling your plate while Sana filled hers. “I love this movie.” 

At first, you thought you wouldn’t be drinking that much considering there were only eight rules to follow for the drinking game, but Sana insisted on alternating between the pure soju and your mixed drinks. Soon you were feeling much less self conscious and a little braver with some alcohol in your system. Before long, both of your plates sat unattended with only a few bites left on each as you got more into the movie’s plot and the drinking game. 

Your nerves about why Sana had invited you over in the first place were almost gone, until the scene in Needy’s bedroom was suddenly on screen and you felt a bit of heat rise to your face. You couldn’t bear to look at Sana as you watched Jennifer kneel on Needy’s bed, tucking her hair behind her ears and adjusting her glasses on top of her head. Their lips met shortly after, and you glanced away. Sana, on the other hand, sat engrossed, leaning in slightly as Needy climbed on top of Jennifer on screen and leaned down to kiss her. 

“When’s the last time you kissed someone like that?” Sana asked suddenly, making you jump a little. 

“Wh-what?” you forced yourself to only look at the screen, watching for a moment. “Oh, uh… it’s been a while,” you said. Without really thinking, you then said, “You?” 

Sana chuckled. “Hmm. A while for me, too,” she replied. You nodded a little, suddenly very aware of how much distance had closed between you and Sana since the movie started. You had been sitting more toward the corner, facing her with one arm lazily draped over the top of the couch, and now Sana was nearly resting against your arm. You kept your eyes on the screen, swallowing hard. 

Sana reached for the remote, turning down the volume of the movie. “Would you kiss me like that?” 

You blushed. You nodded before your voice finally caught up with you. “Y-yes,” you said meekly, finally daring to look in Sana’s direction. She was already looking at you. 

“Okay,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You turned to face her, and as you did, you could practically feel the energy of the room shift. The attraction between the two of you was almost palpable now, and it gave you a much-needed bit of courage. 

You sat up a bit, resting your hand on her knee as you moved. You leaned in a little and so did she. You were about to tilt your head when she spoke suddenly, softly. 

“I…” Sana hesitated. “I just want you to know I really do think you’re attractive, I’m not just doing this because we’ve been drinking and—” 

She trailed off, eyes fixated on your mouth. Noticing this, you moved forward then, finding your confidence finally as your lips met with hers. Sana let out a muffled noise of surprise, then quickly kissed you again, giving you permission to continue. 

Her lips were soft and her touches even softer. She opened her mouth a bit, inviting you in to taste her. Her hands gently pulled on your wrists, and it was all you needed to be able to lead from there. As your fingertips focused on lightly trailing over her forearms and waist, you continued to kiss her, a little deeper, then deeper still until she finally broke away to come up for air. 

Sana’s cheeks were a deep, flushed pink and her eyes slightly hooded as she looked at you. 

“Do you— um…” Sana struggled to find her words and bit her lip to keep a goofy smile off her face. You waited patiently, amused by this new side of hers. It was like finally, your roles had traded. You felt much more bold, while Sana seemed to only get shyer. “My room’s this way,” she said finally, getting up and taking your hand. 

You barely had time to look around Sana’s room before she was pulling you down onto her bed with her. Your lips met hers again and you laid back on her bed, pulling her on top of you. Her hands pulled your short sleeve button up away from your sides as she kissed you, then moved toward your white tank tucked into your shorts. Meanwhile, you worked on Sana’s shirt, a dark off-the-shoulder long sleeve. Before you knew it, both of your clothes had been abandoned on her bedroom floor. You could see out of the corner of your eye through Sana’s window that the sun was setting, but one of her lamps turned on automatically a few moments later, filling your corner of the bedroom with an incredibly soft, yellow glow while everything else fell away to shadows. 

Sana was kissing her way down your neck fervently, one hand working its way between your legs. At first you thought she was going to touch you, but then she started pulling you closer. You were confused for a moment until you figured out what she was trying to do. You took your hands away for a moment to adjust your legs and the distribution of your weight, and then Sana’s; one of her legs over yours, and one of your legs over hers. 

“Better?” you asked softly, pulling Sana closer to you. In all of your experience, scissoring had never been able to make you get even remotely close to coming, but if it was what she wanted and needed to get off, you were more than willing to do it. 

Sana nodded eagerly, looking down to watch as your body met with hers. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan when you felt her wetness on yours. You tried not to think about all of the other things you’d rather be doing to her, focusing instead on trying to help her grind into you. It was nearly impossible to get a good rhythm going, but your own lust skyrocketed and you found yourself grinding back against her, trying to get your aching core any sort of satisfaction and relief. 

The more the two of you worked at it, the more labored both of your breathing became. 

“Is…this comfortable for you?” you asked after a few minutes, panting lightly. 

“Kinda,” Sana replied. Her eyes roamed everywhere over your body. She grabbed at your thighs, squeezing lightly, then set her gaze back on your mouth. She paused for a moment. “Actually…” she said, “I think I know what I’d like even better.”

She reached for you to kiss you, gently untangling her body from yours as her tongue explored your mouth. You found yourself lying down on her bed with Sana climbing on top of you. Her long, brown hair tickled your face as she kissed you, and then she stopped. 

“I… want to feel you,” she said, her brown eyes looking down at you for approval. “Put that mouth to work for me?” You nodded eagerly, sliding down more so Sana had room to hover above your face. You held onto her thighs as she lowered herself down, her breath hitching when she felt your tongue on her. 

You started slowly, taking your time to lick the length of Sana’s wet cunt. She held onto the headboard of her bed, eyes closed. Your tongue teased her entrance, making her gasp, and then moved toward her clit. She tried to be quiet at first, but you gave the back of her thighs a playful squeeze. “I like being able to hear you,” you murmured. “Don’t be shy.” 

Sana half laughed, half moaned as you lapped at her clit. “Y-you’re one to ta– oh, there, right there,” she said. She sank lower onto your face, her thighs warm and snug against the sides of your face. “F-fuck,” she breathed, starting to roll her hips. Your own noises of delight were muffled under her pussy, but Sana appreciated them just the same. 

Your chin, nose and lips became soaked in her juices as you continued to eat her out. You could tell it felt much better for Sana than scissoring had because her breathing slowly became more shallow and her once quiet moans were getting louder. 

“Oh, god…” Sana’s body involuntarily shuddered a little. “That feels so…” she trailed off, grinding against your mouth a little faster. “Yes…” 

But then, just as you were working yourself back into a rhythm that seemed to really please her, she stopped again. She lifted herself off of you, giving you both a few moments to catch your breath. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, slightly worried. “Did I hurt you?” 

Sana smiled, still panting lightly. “No, no, not at all,” she said. “I was actually…” she tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “I could’ve come like that. Well, I mean, I wanted to, but I… I think I’m too shy to come in your mouth,” she finally admitted. “But,” she added quickly, “I do want to come.” 

You nodded, sitting up a bit and wiping part of your face with the back of your hand. “How would you like to?” 

“Hmm.” Sana climbed toward the edge of her bed for a moment, letting the top half of her body disappear momentarily as she leaned over the side to grab a small box under her bed. You quickly looked away from checking out her hips and ass when she sat back up. When she turned to face you, she held a light purple, seven inch toy in her hand. She blushed, but you grinned. 

“I can work with this,” you said. “Lie back,” you instructed, taking the toy from her. You kissed your way down her body, lightly twisting one of her nipples as you moved. You settled in between her legs, kissing and licking your way to her wet pussy. 

“Do you want me to touch you too, or do you want to?” you asked softly. In response, Sana snaked one hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit lightly. Your own cunt clenched involuntarily around nothing as you positioned the head of the toy at her entrance. You rubbed it along her folds a bit, soaking it with her own juices before finally slipping the head in. 

Sana threw her head back, opening her legs a little wider. “M-more,” she said. “Please.” 

You prayed your own wetness would drip down your thighs instead of onto her bedding, talking to Sana softly as you worked more of the length of the toy inside her. “You look so pretty like this,” you told her. Sana rubbed her clit as you fucked her, eyes locked on you as the toy slid in and out of her dripping pussy with ease. 

“God, you make that feel good,” she said, her entire body flush from pleasure. 

“And you,” you said, listening to the lewd sounds of her receptive, wet pussy, “make it sound even better.” You leaned down to kiss her, letting Sana lick your lips and tongue. Her hips bucked as you fucked her, her body trying to get more of the toy inside as her fingers rubbed away at her clit desperately. 

“R-right there,” Sana said after a while. Her body had been growing more and more tense the closer she got, and you could tell she was extremely close now. 

“Nngh- f-fuck, there,” she reached down and put her other hand over yours, helping you fuck her deeper and faster. Her breathing was ragged. You wondered how she was getting any air at all when suddenly she let out a cry, hitting her peak. Her body collapsed completely as she came, letting out light, breathy moans. It was one of the prettiest sounds you’d ever heard. You supported her body as she relaxed into post-orgasm bliss, and gently worked the toy out of her. The moan she let out when you finally slid it all the way out nearly made you feral as you set it aside on her nightstand. 

“Thank you,” Sana said breathlessly. “Wow.” She rolled over, eyeing you for a moment curiously. “To be honest, I’m more of a pillow princess,” she said, glancing at your neglected, soaked cunt. “But I’d love to watch you touch yourself.” Then she smiled mischievously. “You uh, don’t happen to own a harness for a strap, do you?”

[huariqueje]

 

Kitchen interior - Einar Wennberg , 1986.

Swedish, 1936-2004

Lithograph , 59 x 45 cm.

[shannonselin]

Queen Kamamalu of the Sandwich Islands, portrait based on an 1824 lithograph by John Hayter

One of the things I try to bring out in Napoleon in America is how Europeans in the early 19th century tended to regard Native Americans and other indigenous people as exotic savages. Such views are illustrated by the tragic visit of the King and Queen of the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) to England in 1824. 

King Kamehameha II and Queen Kamamalu travelled to London hoping to meet King George IV. However, there was disagreement over the propriety of receiving the King of the Sandwich Islands at Court. The newspaper John Bull expressed the negative side of the argument.

The COURIER last week published a paragraph explaining that the King of the Sandwich Islands has got five brigs in his navy, instead of five canoes; and told us, moreover, that his territories exceed in size all our West Indian Colonies; that they are civilized, accomplished, &c. &c. &c. What the object of all this puffing may be, we really are at a loss to understand; but the effect produced by the quackery of treating these people as European monarchs are treated may be perceived by an extract from some evening paper, which is copied into Saturday’s CHRONICLE. With respect to the man being a King at all, we deny the fact – there is no King of the Sandwich Islands – it is a matter of history and matter of fact that ‘the islands are not united under one sovereign’ – this person is therefore a chief, to whom we should afford the rights of hospitality, but to whom we should not show a respect and deference which are not due to him, and which applied to such a person become absurd and ridiculous. Her Majesty, it is said, committed an extraordinary solecism at a party some few evenings since – and ‘it was well it was no worse’ was the general observation upon it – but at present their Majesties have gotten the measles, which will detain them within doors.

Measles did more than detain their Majesties; the disease – which was then non-existent in the Sandwich Islands – killed them. 

The Queen died first, on July 8, 1824, at the age of 22. She was, to the last,

quite sensible and composed. The King took his last farewell about 10 o’clock in the morning, previously to which she informed him that she was sensible she was dying, and was quite resigned. Their separation was truly affecting.  (The Times, July 10, 1824)

John Bull opined as follows:

We certainly did not anticipate so tragical a termination to the absurd farce which has been acted, in which these poor creatures have been the principal performers – and yet the smallest consideration would have prepared us for the event. A group of savages are suddenly transported from their huts in their native climate, to a pent-up hotel in the dense smoke of London – their limbs, for decency’s sake, straitened and confined in European clothing, their hours of rising and sleeping wholly changed, their food suddenly altered from yams and plantains to rich soups and fricandeaux, and all the melancholy attempts at cookery of which the kitchen of the hotel in which they have been confined is susceptible – the pure limpid stream, their wonted beverage, supplanted by the mixture of Buxton, or Whithbead, or Calvert, or some other such Whig-washery, in which, together with wines and spirits, the poor creatures have been of course allowed to revel with unlimited and savage profusion – the consequence is, the poor female dies first, and in all probability will shortly be followed by the male.

The paper was right. King Kamehameha II died on July 14, 1824, at the age of 27. 

For more details about their visit, and what happened to their bodies, see "When the King & Queen of the Sandwich Islands Visited England."

[greensparty]

Album Review: Weezer "The Blue Album 30th Anniversary Edition"

In 2024 Weezer are alt-rock elder statesmen, but back in the early 90s they were just making a name for themselves in the L.A. scene. A band equally influenced by metal bands like Quiet Riot as they were The Beach Boys. They were too nerdy and full of irony to fit in with L.A.'s metal scene and it was a little before emo had begun. But it was their 1994 debut album Weezer (known as The Blue Album) on DGC that put them on the map. Their brand of power pop was reminiscent of new wave and particularly The Cars and appropriately, the album was produced by The Cars leader Ric Ocasek. I first became aware of the band in the Fall of 1994 when I heard “Undone (The Sweater Song)”, which had this infectious rhythm that just stayed in your head long after hearing. That music video was directed by Spike Jonze, who did their so memorable next video “Buddy Holly”, which is amazing in the way it combines classic Happy Days footage with newly shot footage of the band performing at Big Al’s! I got the album around that time. It didn’t exactly set the world on fire when it was first released in May 1994 (the alt-rock world was still mourning from Kurt Cobain’s death a month earlier), but in the years that followed, The Blue Album has been looked at as leading the Emo movement and it’s appeared on many Best-Of lists, notably 90s lists. I saw them in 2005 when they co-headlined a tour with Foo Fighters, known as the Foozer Tour.  Great band! Singer/guitarist/songwriter Rivers Cuomo is still a power pop genius. To celebrate the 30th anniversary of the band's biggest selling (and arguably best album), UMe is releasing a deluxe box set this week.

original album cover

The band had formed in 1992 with Cuomo, drummer Patrick Wilson, bassist Matt Sharp (he left the band in 1998), and after starting with guitarist Jason Cropper in 1992-93, Brian Bell replaced him and the classic Weezer lineup was in place. This box set is a deep dive into the album and the demos and live recordings of that era. I got to review the 3-CD set. CD1 is the remastered album and BBC recordings. CD2 is early Kitchen Tape demos and early recordings. CD3 is early live recordings and LMU sessions. There is also a fanzine with liner notes from the band's friend and collaborator Karl Koch, lithographs, a poster of Weezer as Kiss, song-themed sticker sheet, twelve-sided die, enamel Bokkus pin, and the box set boasts “sweater” embossed graphics complete with a pullable and retractable thread.

some of the goodies that come with this box set

Here is the thing with this box set: It is definitely For Fans Only, but not nearly as much as I thought it would be. I thought you were going to have to be a Weezer fanatic to truly appreciate it, but to my surprise it was kind of impressive with some of the early rarities. There's loads of bells and whistles that fans are going to eat up, but the biggest treat for me as a fan of The Cars is hearing their early rehearsal demo cover of "Just What I Needed" that they did to woo Ocasek, which worked. He worked his magic on this album and produced two more albums with them. There are some gems in here, but a double album would've been better. If you can afford it, there's definitely some cool bells and whistles in the packaging itself. But the real treat is the album itself, still their best IMHO!

For info on the 30th anniversary Blue Album

Original album: 4.5 out of 5 stars

30th Anniversary Edition: 3.5 out of 5 stars

[recherchestetique]

An updated Victorian 1874 kitchen featuring a cast iron stove--an innovation from the fireplace. “Prang’s aids for object teaching–The kitchen” (Boston : L. Prang & Co., c1874). Lithograph. Library of Congress.

[louisupdates]

FITFWT23: HAMBURG RECAP

Concert number: 41

Date: 29 AUG 2023

Place: Barclay Arena

Capacity: 15,000

Venue: [bp_audi0] [oli crump] [oli crump] [michael blackwell] [Kenny/ Sam]

Livestream [another]

Louis’ IG story, and another!

LTHQ Twitter and Instagram [x]

Concert Group Picture

Fashion: CDLP tank, Saul Nash pants [helen]

Lithograph

Setlist

Photos: [Louis & the band pre-concert] [HQ] [HQ] [x] [x] [HQ] [HQ] [back] [HQ][silhouette] [HQ smiling] [HQ] [biblical] [HQ barricade] [nose boop] [HQ] [HQ] [rainbows] [🌈] [HQ vein] [HQ barricade] [x] [HQ barricade] [HQ 👁️] [HQ armpit] [barricade] [barricade] [barricade] [rainbows] [x] [back to you] [x] [x] [HQ] [leaving Barclays] [gifs] [gifs] [gifs] [gifs] [Night Changes lyrics] [helen] [b&w] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [HQ] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [HQ] [HQ] MORE PHOTOS

Videos: [x]

Speeches: a very fucking loud start, these songs feel incredibly authentic

Outro: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

Press:

Trends: [x]

EUROPE merch, [x] [x]

Misc: size of the crowd, catering by Sarah’s Kitchen, unseens from 1D [gifs] [gifs] and Rolling Stone article, 28clothing IG story, The Lathums post

[hotforharrison]

This room was a disaster of his stuff, donations, and stuff I'm keeping from the kitchen cabinets I'm painting. You literally couldn't walk in the 2/3 of the room toward the window.

It was detrimental to my mental health and well-being, so I sorted and cleaned the room up and did what I could with it with things that I already have.

It took almost 2 hours.

There are still some of his things that will go away, like his two sets of drawers in the corner that contain craft supplies, and there's still shelving units on the walls and a pegboard that were his.

I dug through all the bedding I had and changed the futon bedding into what I call anti-ex-husband's-name style. Pink is absolutely not his thing.

I added some of the art and a lithograph I had on the walls by the futon and moved in my white cube storage bin unit as a "headboard."

Here's some other photos of the evolution over the last several days to the current state.

[the-blackorchid1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: BRIDE by MOONLIGHT WINDOW w AXE ART PRINT Halloween party.

[abwwia]

Ruth Gikow was an American visual artist known primarily for her work as a genre painter.

(Russian: Руфь Борисовна Гикова, romanized: Ruf Borisovna Gikova; January 6, 1915 - April 2, 1982)

Her paintings often depict human figures interacting with an urban environment. Via Wikipedia

1. Ruth Gikow, Psychosis--Two Napoleons and a Josephine, n.d., screenprint, plate: 13 1⁄4 x 10 in. (33.6 x 25.4 cm), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Audrey McMahon, 1968.98.34, © 1978, Ruth Gikow

2. Ruth Gikow, The Kitchen, 1960, oil on canvas, 40 x 60 in. (101.6 x 152.3 cm.), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of S.C. Johnson & Son, Inc., 1968.52.5

3. Ruth Gikow, A Cappella, 1974, Oil on canvas, 610x455 mm; 24x18 inches. Signed in oil, lower right recto.

4. Ruth Gikow, Interior, n.d., color lithograph, sheet: 11 3⁄8 x 16 in. (28.9 x 40.5 cm), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Audrey McMahon, 1968.98.33

#RuthGikow #artherstory #artbywomen #womensart #palianshow #art #Smithsonian #painter #femalepainter

[smallerplaces]

Sunflower Cottage is ready for Christmas

The Sunflower Cottage is my Christmas house, for no better reason than that I impulsively furnished it from my stockpile last December and it then stayed on my desk through the holiday season.

So this year... it's baaaaack!

This is one of my favorite projects ever, because while it's simple and took basically an evening, it achieves very much what I want it to do.

The inhabitant is the Tweakie Toy nurse. If you haven't seen Tweakie Toys before, they were a short-lived competitor to Fisher Price Little People. J. Chein made them for exactly one year in 1969, and my set was my favorite toy as a very small child. While the people originally came with little blocks lithographed as contemporary rooms, I never had the rooms, and my people lived in what's now the Modern Abode. I started rebuying them around 2019 and now have (I think) all of the variations, certainly enough to inhabit all of my half-scale houses.

What I loved about Tweakie Toys is that, unlike most dollhouse people who are fixated on being nuclear families, they are defined by their jobs. You can work out a multi-generational neighborhood however you like. The one downside is that they're all white. Had the line succeeded into the 1970s, this probably would have changed, but alas! Back then, it was unusual to include characters of color in an initial launch. Someday, I shall try plastic dye on some of my duplicates and get a little diversity in here.

The bathroom may be where I started, as getting the flooring and walls i wanted was a project that involved finding a "generate your sample floor tile pattern" site. The furniture is vintage Marx.

The bedroom absorbs my 2021 obsession with Marx beige furniture sets. The resident loves sunflowers, so all the major art pieces have them. She also has a Navajo rug, a souvenir of her jobs in Arizona, that matches her shades from the Dollar Tree sticker aisle. The blob on the highboy is a maneki nekko for luck.

The kitchen has (printed) authentic Armstrong vinyl flooring in the company's most popular style. The sunflower painting in the distance is off a calendar of New England photographs. When I remember where I put the double-sticky tape, I need to attach the kitchen floor better.

The actual inspiration for this house may have been the blue living room set, which is Arco and used to be an appalling shade of yellow before i hit it with the spray paint.

If you squint at the right wall, you can see the nurse has her guitar handy for party sing-alongs. Later in December, she'll be throwing a party for her community of fellow Tweakies!

[cypressure]

selfportrait (bored creature masturbating) (2021), kitchen lithograph on paper, edition of 4

You can buy a print in this edition on my gumroad store!

[kylo-wrecked]

Ben's used to those fucking lights, these turning heads.

Oh-ho, and to suffer a small death. Terrible, and Ben's familiar, being a bit on the terrible side himself. Rolling black shoulders, letting his dark head spill back, allowing himself to look like he's been shot, silent throat bared. Mourning stillborn laughter, he says what he thinks. Famous last words.

"I think I know." His vague smile is like a wink. "I get the picture." Makes a box with his long, notched fingers. Sniffs. Width of his hands camera camera-heavy. "I can dig it."

Steven Grant in full color. Blue and lithographic, a ticking Escher. Ben turns his bad ear to the kitchen, filtering, focused. Knuckling graffiti rather than surveying.

His subject is Steven, who shows Ben another item he already knows: the turndown. Qin qin. Crack of ice. Ben's used to hearing 'no' these days, but 'not tonight...'

Uh-oh. Ben shifts, pulling his legs together and straightening. Draws toward Steven again, soft leather hanging in an easy hug around his back and arms' sudden poise. Not enough to turn more heads.

It's been forty-five minutes, and Ben's flat as a cup of cola. Flesh mask is neutral, colored with a trace of irony, and iron.  

"Tsk. Steven," Ben says, sucking his teeth. Dropping a hornblende gaze on him, a warning that glistens. "I've got a suspended license and a chaperone. Don't tempt me."

His lips, plumped anew by the water Steven'd implored him to drink, turn up at the corners. He shoots his driver a text under the fold of his jacket pocket. Draws back, pushing the kiddie chair out from under him, rising. Ben Solo pushing through ants, patting Steven's arm like they've just met, which, they have. Holds his eyes a moment and rambles on. ('Soldier' doesn't make it onto film.)

Then he's on the corner of ninth, alone under a no-moon sky with a gyro bag crunched in his hand, old street globes glowing white and hazy through false acacia, and a thin shawl of clouds the color of fishbone. Grinding his teeth away. Waiting.

There's considerable consolation for a guy like Ben. He leaves knowing he could witness Steven's laughter on reel a thousand times, no breaks, and that he'll give him a project, and when his night ends, Ben will topple through the door with Steven Grant's laugh in his pocket like a golden ticket, remorse-free for as long as it takes to sign a check or fall asleep with his shoes on.

@silverjetsystm

How terrible, to kill another by eyes, by hands on tie, pulling it just so. All the signs of little death. Heat neither pooling nor cooling. Driven up walls himself. Almost another laugh. Tooth digs into the inside of his lip. For a joke… “You don’t know how true that is,” Steven allows, head motioning, smiling for the both of them, white dress shirt forearms resting on scuffed, off-white vinyl table. Self-Winding Grant, no crank required.

Watching Ben, black clothes absorbing late night light. Watching Ben watching Steven, Ben flipping through cultivated idle to guarded flesh mask. Watching late night take out. Polo perking up. A glint in Steven’s eye, coiled tension between his shoulder blades, palms becoming fists. Analyzing. Watching Soldier handle Ralph Lauren with a stern look, swell of driver’s suit muscle shoulders. Producer behind the camera.

Deliberately, he surveys the graffiti on the table, clearing his throat. Ballpoint initials. Scrawled phone numbers. Bite of now cold fry. Soothing Not Himself for he doesn’t need to be soothed on this. Why they have Soldier. Then he’s alone together, absence of the emotions onslaught leaving him breathless and drained. Blinking away floaters, grease fingers rubbing mild headache with a hiss.

Diegetic sounds. Kitchen’s playlist. Kitchen’s sounds of cooking. Those fucking lights. Ben’s coolness. Further turning of heads. Whatever invisibility they momentarily had was shattered. Grant doesn’t turn back. Grant is slumped, poking the fries with another fry, alternating gazing up towards Ben sipping water. Teeth dig into cheek to continue the feigned privacy. Ice crack.

"If not business, then..." Chair screeches as Steven sits up, adjusting his sleeves, brushing off crumbs. Chancing a long look over black hole bulk, tracing lips, meeting eyes. Steven’s lips slightly parted.

"Not tonight. We penciled in business and should pause at pleasant.” Gulps his own water with a sudden ferocity. Like the kiss that didn't happen, the event that shouldn’t.

Cup empty, Steven adjusts silk. Hastily, he adds, "Soldier can drop you off wherever you want, if you would like." Procrastination wrapped up in a sensible? offer.

@kylo-wrecked

[marcos-roma]

Ca Ordem Spriralis Lutio. Solis Cir Terrarum Revo, Lithography. Copiright 1991 by A.G.Ricordi S.p.A. Milano. Printed in Italy. On sale in ours Studio. 82x62. #kitchen #handmade #drawing #engraving #lithography #antiques #art #typography #printmaking #press #diy #prints #lithography #madeinitaly #painter #lithograph #contemporaryart #ink #poster #posterdesign #painting #paint #paintings #print #offset #vintage #logo #watercolor (presso Nautical Furniture & Design Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqhYBbohhaW/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=11d7intao1yjm