#lucapalermo

[casaturese]

#micheleattianese RADICAL, oil and acrilic on paper, cm 48 x 32,5, 2020 #courtesyof #casaturese #artgallery #contemporaryart #vitulano #sannio #italy🇮🇹 #onshow #pensareilfuturo #curatedby @arianna.baldoni “Giving meaning, two words that represent for me the fundamental bond of the artist with his own work: give meaning to oneself, working with what one feels with the right conviction, contributing to increase an important model of reflection on our life and in particular our time, a phenomenon that painting oftentimes induces. The painting act becomes a practice of great power and experimentation that makes possible a clear-cut and lucid vision on one’s own work and projects. The painting wavers, hesitates and lingers on the deep meaning of things, helping find a more congenial, human dimension” MICHELE ATTIANESE #pompei #napoli #massimobignardi #fracbaronissi GROUND #antonellotolve #beatricesalvatore #enzobattarra #lucapalermo #federicagiallombardo #vittorioavella #instaart #instaartist #artfair #artdusseldorf #artfaircologne #architecture #interiordesign #artworkoftheday #artworkofthemonth calendario d’artista - gennaio2021 (presso CASA TURESE galleria • edizioni d'arte) https://www.instagram.com/p/CJa3YeepKFd/?igshid=1ui5oqkvp7390

[micahhan-blog]

date: August 2023 time: late afternoon location: the roof of the hardware store status: open to @lucapalermos

   Camp had already been made up and the last dredges of sunset were slipping past the gaps in the buildings on the horizon when Micah spotted Luca's long shadow descending down from the roof of the hardware store.  He didn't look like he was moving, only sitting there, staring at the scarlet drenched clouds. For a moment, Micah considered leaving him be. It seemed to him that the only time he and Luca ever had a conversation that wasn't latent with bitterness was when they were both drunk off whatever cheap liquor the group could get their hands on. It was one of the core unspoken rules of their relationship.

   But lately instead of snide comments at his expense, there had only been bristled, awkward silence, and Micah's curiosity was getting the better of him.

   He hefted himself up the ladder, making enough noise that Luca would know he was coming, and walked out over to the edge Luca was sitting on. "Not that you've been very subtle these past four days, but if you jump off this roof and break your ankles trying to get away from me, I'm going to be a little offended."

[ghostjamesdoe-blog]

date: august 2023 time: early evening location: behind the hardware store status: closed to @lucapalermos

James had long since separated from the group who still seemed to be searching the hardware store. He wasn’t sure what exactly they were looking for or what anyone had found. All he knew was that it was starting to get dark and he was tired of searching. His bones ached and he could feel a headache starting to form between his temples. At the back of the hardware store, he noticed a discarded backpack. Riffling through it, James managed to find a nearly empty bottle of Vodka. Without even thinking about it, he took a sip.

When he turned, he noticed someone standing in the distance. It was hard to see who exactly it was because they were back-lit by the setting sun. James formed an awkward smile and raised his hand to wave at whoever it was, hoping they were an alive person.

[masengarcia-blog]

date: august 2023 location: back parking lot [hardware store] availability: closed for @lucapalermos

Looting was, of course, necessary for survival in a world like this. People begged and borrowed and stole whatever it took to keep their skin free of bites and blood pumping through their hearts. So, they stopped places that might have had things they actually needed, like gas, or weapons, or food, fresh water, more weapons. 

Masen liked to look for other things, things everyone else wouldn’t have cared about. Those were the things that told him what he needed to know about people. He remembered a picture of a father and daughter on a fishing trip at that bait shop he’d stopped at in Texas. The back of the picture had a name, and that name had matched the name of the shop, and Masen couldn’t help feeling like he owed these people something, even if that something was as small as remembering them when no one else did.

This time, he’d opened the bottom drawer of an old wooden desk and found mostly your typical desk items: loose staples, writing utensils, extra rolls of tape, some manila folders; he was about to shut the drawer when it caught his eye, small and white.

“I think I just found a joint,” he whispered to Luca, laughing. Masen had always been too afraid to try drugs, both because his physical health was the only part of him people depended on, and because if he failed a drug test his life would’ve been over and his mother’s heart would’ve been crushed. But none of that was a factor anymore, so he held it up for the other boy to see.

“Back parking lot?”

[wilsonhunter-blog]

date: august 2023 location: camp outside the hardware store availability: closed to @lucapalermos

As the afternoon sun dimmed and introduced the evening, Hunter returned to camp with nothing to show for her hard work except for the beads of sweat on her forehead. She’d been busying herself in every way possible: first by setting up camp and taking inventory, then by guarding the perimeter, then by searching for something useful, and finally hefting a load of plywood off a door in hopes of finding treasure. Nothing came of it, but Hunter was pleased with the amount of work she’d accomplished.

The first face she saw as she settled into a spot on the ground was Luca’s. He’d been there the last time she left the camp, in the exact same spot, and the sight angered her to the point of her fist shaking. He was supposed to be useful at locations such as these, light on his feet and quick to scout a place. Hunter was disappointed, and she knew it was her own fault for expecting anything of him. After a moment, her fists fell loose at her side. She took a deep breath, trying to be more understanding.

She sympathized with him--really, she did. He’d lost his sister so recently, and she’d felt those same wounds. She knew how paralyzing they were when they were fresh. But when she’d lost--when her brother had--when she was first alone, giving herself excuses would’ve gotten her killed. She didn’t want Luca to dig his own grave so willingly. So she held him to higher standards than she otherwise would have, just to keep him alert. Or, more accurately, to keep him distracted. It was the only thing she could think to do.

“Heads up, Palermo!” Hunter warned him a moment before chucking a rock in his direction, aimed at his abdomen. It looked like an attack, but she’d call it a friendly test.

[teddyainsworth-blog]

date: may 2023 location: somewhere in california time: mid afternoon availability: @lucapalermos

The rain should be stifling, but for a boy bred with Georgia in his blood, the humidity has never bothered Teddy. What’s strange is that it’s humid in the first place. For a state that had been dealing with droughts and insufficient water for decades, it was a strange thing for the rain to finally come when the world fell.

The problem is his eyes.

The rain was coming down not in sheets, but something close. He could barely see twenty feet ahead of him, much less Luca, who keeps veering down the slope of the hill and out of Teddy’s line of sight. He can’t tell if the younger man is doing it on purpose anymore, when he’s had to shout after his companion on more than one occasion at this point. They were meant to be sweeping the area around the abandoned warehouse they had found and decided to spend the night. A few of the others had tried to convince Teddy to wait and sweep the area once the rain stopped coming down, but he couldn’t take the risk.

He’s never take the risk.

“Luca!” Teddy calls again when he realizes that the other has disappeared behind a tree and not come out the other side. “Luca! We gotta stay where we can see each other!”

This kid was going to get their necks wrung.