#this had to be the most awful watercolor paper I ever bought

[strays-quay]

Initial thumbnail => digital clean-up => lineart => final inks

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Of Poetry and Valentines

I’ve decided that even though I may not participate in every day of @ineffablehusbandsweek I might as well at least write a story for prompt #1.

1. Valentine’s Day -- (3,400 words)

Chocolate Love-A Cake.

Million Heart Cheesecake.

Mint-To-Be Chocolate Candies.

Some sort of cupcake simply titled Heart of the Batter.

Crowley had been standing in Aziraphale’s favorite bakery for over forty-five minutes. He’d stopped even trying to hold up the queue, which now simply flowed around him

Even the pastries without disgustingly twee names were covered in little frosting hearts and other nonsense. Not to mention all that pink.

“Are you ready to order yet?” asked the girl behind the till, handing yet another customer an absurdly elaborate confection that represented exactly six pounds and thirteen pence worth of I love you.

“Nh,” Crowley said, glancing at the coffee list. The flavors of the month started with Cupid Cappuccino and it went downhill fast from there. “Euh.”

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” she said, with far more chirpy good cheer than was strictly necessary.

--

The streets of Soho had been transformed. Paper hearts and cupids in every window; massive displays of roses, orchids, tulips and lilies spilled out in front of every shop, regardless of what they sold; even the nearest pub was covered in bright pink garlands and little red fairy lights.

Did no one in this district have even an ounce of self-respect?

Crowley stepped up to the Bentley and groaned. Someone had tied a red heart balloon to the wing mirror of every car on the street. Someone else had stuck little pink animal and flower shapes all over the windscreens.

The Bentley now sported a paper rabbit with Some bunny loves you! scrawled across it, as well as a large paper flower reading:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Here’s a Valentine

Just for you!

He pulled them both off and shredded them to confetti, yet all the tiny pieces still managed to look like little hearts. The balloon he transformed into a pink-and-red football and kicked it as far down the street as he could.

Crowley slammed the door of the Bentley as he climbed in, and angrily shoved one of his favorite Wagner CDs into the player. Of course, what emerged was not the prelude to Das Rheingold but Queen’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”

He slapped the radio off and glared at the dashboard. “Cut that out. I swear to Someone, if you even try and pull that on me today…”

Leaving the threat to hang in the air, he turned the radio back on and skipped to the second song, which was now “March of the Black Queen.”

“Better,” he muttered, and pulled away from the kerb.

--

Aziraphale had never taken to Valentine’s Day, no more than any other saint’s feast day, in any case. He hadn’t commented at all when, almost six centuries ago, it had been co-opted by certain European courts as a day of romance.

Crowley, on the other hand, dove right into it, reveled in it: the poetry, the elaborate tournaments, the sighing tales of courtly love. He was in his element.

After all, a celebration of love might be considered Heavenly, but a day devoted to pageantry and dramatic empty gestures? With an undercurrent of lust masked by a noble myth of pure adoration? That sounded downright demonic.

At least, that’s what he told Head Office. Humans, as always, did ninety percent of the work. Crowley simply observed and dropped a few well-placed suggestions. The poetry got worse, the eloquent love declarations more empty.

By 1800, the exchange of awful verse and sappy greetings in mid-February had become so entrenched in English society that printers had begun to mass-produce cards for the holiday. By 1835, thousands of Valentines – store bought or handmade – were sent through the post every year.

A few more whispered words into the right ears. In 1840, postal rates across the kingdom dropped, and the first postage stamp was introduced. The next February, four hundred thousand Valentines Day cards were mailed all around the country – and, thanks to the changes in the postal system, they could now be sent anonymously.

--

On the thirteenth of February, 1841, an envelope was delivered to A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop – there was no sender’s address, no salutation, just a number and street name, hastily scribbled. Inside was a simple piece of white card, covered enthusiastically but inexpertly with white lace; pasted in the center, framed by a heart, was a printed image, a bouquet of red roses and blue forget-me-nots. Below, a bit of gold ribbon surrounded a single word: Devotion.

“I don’t know, Angel,” Crowley grumbled when Aziraphale showed it to him. “Could be anyone. Could be one of your customers. Maybe one of them has a thing for rude shopkeepers.”

“I don’t think so,” Aziraphale said, turning the card over to study the pattern of the lace. “There’s something very familiar about it…”

“Familiar?” Crowley demanded sharply.

“I mean, the sender is being very familiar with the recipient. As if they’d known each other a long time.” He ran his finger across the single word. “Perhaps it was misdirected?”

“Nrg.” Crowley shrugged.

In 1842, another envelope arrived. This one held a pre-printed card, a single flower on a pink-and-gold background. A bright red heart, tucked behind a pink ribbon, carried the message:

Paeonia, symbol of happiness sublime

Wilt thou be my Valentine?

More pre-printed cards followed.

In 1843, two birds built a nest, filled with hearts instead of eggs.

In 1846, a couple strolling through a watercolor landscape under the words Valentine Greetings.

In 1849, a little girl in a white dress with a basket of roses, and the words With True Love.

In 1852, the angels started appearing. The first was surrounded by morning glories and gold filigree. Loving Greeting.

1853 brought back the lace and forget-me-nots, surrounding a winged figure wrapped in lace and gauze and little else. With Love and Devotion.

In 1854, a chubby cupid crossed a serene lake in a white-and-gold boat filled with pink roses; a line of white swans bridled with more roses pulled it along. Love’s Message to my Valentine.

“They’re just pre-printed messages,” Crowley pointed out in 1856. “They don’t mean anything. Whoever sent it probably just picked one that looked nice.”

“Oh, no, there’s real feeling behind it, I’m sure. Look at this.” It was the most elaborate yet: white lace, roses, hearts, a dove delivering a heart-covered envelope to a little angel, white ribbon framing a poem, tied in a perfect bow.

Crowley rolled his whole head in an exaggerated gesture. “Trying way too hard,” was all he said.

“Are you jealous?” Aziraphale asked with a grin.

“Jealous? What, that you get sappy misdirected mail? No, I’m fine without.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, studying first Crowley, then the card. “Sixteen years? Without missing one? Surely it must be intentional.”

“Angel, a million of those are sent every year. There has to be some mistakes in all that.”

“Perhaps you’re right…” His eyes ran across the poem one more time.

May this bow of white

Which gives delight

And which I send to you

A token be

Of love divine

Oh, will’t thou be

My Valentine?

“Truly horrible verse,” Crowley muttered. “Does that even scan?”

1857 saw the return of the hand-made cards. Skillfully cut paper, lace, ribbons, flowers – sometimes painted, sometimes embroidered onto linen. Pre-made pieces, painstakingly glued together with endearing imperfection. The messages were short, but hand-written: To My Star. Valentine Greeting. Love Always.

“They have different handwriting,” Crowley pointed out. “Different senders.”

“I suppose,” Aziraphale conceded. “Unless the sender is disguising their handwriting.”

“Wh-what? Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know. But look – all the ribbons are pasted on exactly the same way.”

Crowley squinted at three different cards. “I don’t see it,” he said flatly. “I think it’s your imagination. Do you want a secret admirer?”

“No,” Aziraphale started slowly, glancing at Crowley from the corner of his eyes. “No, on the whole I’d rather have an admirer I knew.”

“Mh. Why do you keep those, anyway?”

“Oh, I love a mystery.” Aziraphale felt the grin slide across his face. “Anonymous cards, mailed to my shop every Valentines Day for almost twenty years? Simply irresistible, wouldn’t you say?”

Crowley, apparently, had nothing at all to say.

In 1862, the poetry returned, pre-printed again but at least somewhat better verse. Around a watercolor that was possibly meant to depict Romeo and Juliet:

I may wander over land and sea

Pass many days away from thee

Yet my heart can never rove

From thee, my own, my love.

Aziraphale professed it was his favorite yet, but Crowley only scowled.

--

The greatest shock was the card that arrived in 1864.

Aziraphale had not expected anything that year. The envelope sat in his hands, as simple and anonymous as all the others. Inside, a heart-shaped card framing an almost embarrassingly cute cat.

This little kitten,

Valentine,

Has come to ask you

To be mine.

He suddenly realized he had made a grave miscalculation. If these cards were still arriving after…after certain recent developments…that could only mean…

Well. At least Crowley was no longer around to realize what a foolish conclusion he’d jumped to.

Another print arrived in 1865, a young lady holding a tulip to her nose.

Oh! Would I were the flower that sips

The honied kisses from your lips.

My Darling Valentine.

The card tumbled from his trembling fingers.

Why? Why did he even bother opening it? Why did he keep them even now?

Aziraphale grabbed all twenty-five Valentine’s Day cards and thrust them into a box. He found a spot on the highest shelf of the bookcase furthest from the door, tucked the box into a corner so gloomy even he could barely spot it. He was absolutely determined to forget any cards had ever arrived.

The envelope that arrived in 1866 was tucked, unopened, into a thick volume of Greek philosophy and pushed back onto a dusty shelf. Aziraphale swore no matter how many more arrived, he would never look.

But, as if a spell were broken, no more Valentines were delivered after that. And the last one remained unopened for over seventy-five years.

Until, two nights after a certain incident in a church, he found it again, hands shaking from the exertion of the search, from the unnamed emotions racing through him.

The card inside was gold and silver lace, simple yet elegant in a way he hadn’t remembered the others being. There was an earnest charm to the way the edges didn’t quite line up to the white paper underneath. In the center, a printed poem, surrounded by hand-painted flowers in more varieties than Aziraphale could name.

Valentine –

Fain would I guard thee through life’s desert drear

And fling around thee love to soothe and cheer

For thee I live might I but call thee mine

I’d be forever thy own Valentine.

He didn’t know how it was possible, but only one being in all Creation would send such a poem.

Aziraphale sat down on the floor of his shop. The tears he’d been holding in for two days finally began to fall.

--

After Crowley woke from his extended nap, he was disgusted to find how the holiday had spiraled out of control, how it only grew worse with every passing decade. Chocolates. Jewelry. Mass-market commercialization. It became a million-pound industry, and eventually a billion-pound one. Where once hopeful lovers could send a chintzy greeting card for a few pennies, the fools now spent a week’s pay – or more – on useless trinkets, somehow convinced it would ensure a return of affection.

And the engagements! The diamond rings, the elaborate proposals.

It was an absolute mockery of the cheap, empty exchange of sentiments he had spent so long cultivating. Was nothing sacred?

He was sure the Americans were to blame.

And yet now, when the holiday was devoid even of the anti-meaning Crowley had worked so hard to endow it with, now Aziraphale took notice? Now he began decorating his shop with angels even more absurd than the ones he usually collected? Now he put vases full of dried flowers on every table �� roses and carnations and tulips in pink and red and white?

Every year, the traditions grew worse, yet Aziraphale only embraced the holiday more.

--

The Apocalypse had come and gone. The world had changed. For eight months they’d stood on the cusp of…something.

It was absurd. They each knew how the other felt – there was no denying it at this point – but somehow, after six thousand years, Crowley suddenly couldn’t find a way to say the words. Now it was Aziraphale waiting patiently on him, and if that wasn’t embarrassing, he didn’t know what was.

He just needed the right time. He’d hoped Valentine’s Day could be it.

But here it was, the fourteenth of February, and all Crowley felt was fed up. He couldn’t bring himself to buy the overpriced flowers, the punfully-named treats, even a racy gag gift (of which there was never any shortage in Soho). It just felt…empty.

He walked into the bookshop and prepared to disappoint his angel.

--

Aziraphale had set up a garland of sorts, too, but not paper flowers or bright red crepe paper. Across the two pillars nearest the door – where no one entering the shop could miss them, let alone Crowley – hanging from a string, were twenty-six Victorian Valentine’s Day cards.

Some were handmade – clumsy and uneven. Some were pre-printed – cheap, mass-produced. All were just a little tacky, but in the light of the shop, they seemed to glow with love.

“Ah! You’re here.” Aziraphale emerged with a pile of 19th-century romance novels, which he proceeded to arrange on the front table, to more easily chase customers away from them. “How do you like my decorating?”

“Oh. Uh. You. You kept those.”

“Naturally.” He didn’t even turn away from his task. “They were sent by someone very important to me.”

Crowley gulped. “You worked that out, then?”

“Yes, dear, in 1843.” Aziraphale chuckled, standing a copy of Wuthering Heights on the top of his display.

“Uh…Nh…” Crowley felt his face getting very warm. “You could have said –”

“I assumed, at the time, this was the beginning of some very elaborate prank on your part, and I was curious to see where it might go.”

“You – you said it was a mystery!”

“Yes, that was me playing along.” Satisfied with his display, Aziraphale turned back. “Now, if we’re finally going to talk about this, I do have a question.”

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet. No avoiding this, it seemed. “Fine. Right. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but it was…it was too much. Too big.” He looked at the ceiling as he talked, the walls, anywhere but at the angel who was now watching him with rapt attention. “You’d just reject it, and I didn’t want that kind of…y’know. So I just – I devalued what it means to say…that…on Valentine’s Day. Made it cheap and easy and meaningless so that when I told you, maybe it wouldn’t seem so big. Maybe you’d be able to accept it. Or at least maybe the rejection wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Soft footsteps across the floorboards, and Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek, drawing his face back down to meet that blue gaze.

“I know. I worked that out, oh, seventy years ago.”

“You what?”

“Once I understood how you felt, well, it seemed rather obvious. I also know why it never worked.”

Crowley hadn’t felt this completely lost since the night the world had almost ended. He reached up and grasped Aziraphale’s hand for balance. “Please…enlighten me.”

“Crowley, dear. A meaningless bit of frippery bought for a few pennies? A quiet I love you disguised as a joke? That’s not who you are. You need a big, grand show of affection, a blazing banner across the sky, or it won’t ever feel real to you. So even when I told you I liked the cards, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. The holiday was all wrong.”

“Thanks,” Crowley grumbled.

“Well, I was going to say something when you next sent me a card, only you never did. And so I, well, I decided to encourage the humans to, as you say, ‘go bigger.’ I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist a culture of grand romantic gestures. Only I’m not very subtle and it got rather out of hand.”

Behind his glasses, Crowley blinked.

“So…all – all that,” Crowley waved a hand at the window. “All that was you?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled apologetically, though the bastard had probably never been sorry a day in his life. “The holiday generally, and also more specifically the state of Soho just now. I’ve been rather giddy lately and it seems to have gone contagious.”

Crowley thought of everything the day had come to mean – the heart-shaped sweets, the over-the-top dinners, flowers that cost as much as an outfit, jewelry that cost as much as a car. Piles of gifts of every description, sky-diving marriage proposals, holiday getaways to Paris or Florence or tiny cottages in snow-filled forests.

“Aziraphale,” he laughed, found he couldn’t stop laughing. “Angel! You…you made a whole holiday of big, stupid, over-the-top romantic gestures for me?”

“Only because you started it.” He slipped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pulling them together, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s hips, pressing their bodies close. The words he wanted to say danced on the edge of his tongue, waiting for the right moment.  Not yet, not yet. Instead he asked, “Didn’t you have a question?”

“Ah, yes. How did you do it?” Aziraphale pulled back enough to look up at his eyes. “The last three cards arrived while you were asleep.”

“Oh! That’s easy enough.” His hands found their way into Aziraphale’s and, without anyone needing to suggest it out loud, they walked together to the back room and the well-worn sofa, where a bottle of wine waited for them. “I didn’t want to lose my nerve, so I would buy and send the cards five at a time. I gave the post office instructions to mail them one per year. I told myself each time, ‘After the last card, I’ll say it out loud.’ But, well, I always wound up buying more cards.”

Aziaphale froze two steps away from the sofa. “Are you saying you haven’t bought me a Valentine since 1861? This is outrageous.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, flinging himself down and pulling Aziraphale after him. “Have you seen what passes for romantic verse these days? Pathetic. I’m not going to pay…five pounds or whatever it is for that nonsense.”

“Mmm.” Aziraphale shifted to lean against him, flashing another bastard smile. “I suppose the card selection has been disappointing lately. Still, an angel likes a little poetry now and again.”

“Poetry, is it?” Crowley pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside so he could meet that breathtaking blue gaze straight on. Caught one of Aziraphale’s hands and held it to his chest.

Women have loved before as I love now;

At least, in lively chronicles of the past –

Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow

Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast

Much to their cost invaded – here and there,

Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,

I find some woman bearing as I bear

Love like a burning city in the breast.

I think however that of all alive

I only in such utter, ancient way

Do suffer love; in me alone survive

The unregenerate passions of a day

When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,

Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured. “Well, that’s hardly appropriate for a card.”

Crowley tried to raise Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, but discovered he was shaking too much. “It’s – You’re probably right. But it’s how I’ve felt. For a very long time.”

Aziraphale pulled his hand back, then leaned in to softly brush his lips against Crowley’s. Hesitant. Shy. But when he finished, he didn’t pull back. Crowley could feel the trembling of Aziraphale’s breath, mirroring his own.

“I love you, too,” his angel whispered. “I hope you know that.”

-- end --

Inspired by the pastries at my local bakery, and by a conversation with @angel-and-serpent 

All the Victorian Valentines described are actual cards (I tried to do all vintage, but some may have been replicas/modern cards in “Victorian” style), slightly altered to be easier to describe. I also changed a word or two where the poetry was especially bad.

The final poem is by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I’ve said many times I default write the Husbands as asexual, but then Crowley goes and picks one of the sexy sonnets, so I guess interpret where things go from there as you see fit. (I’m ace myself and not going to try and deny the power of Millay’s sexy sonnets. Look at that thing. I become 5% more allo and 8% gayer every time I read it.)

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: Pretty (Wo)Man

Title: Pretty (Wo)Man Rating: R Pairing: Gabriel/Jonathan Summary: Pretty Woman AU

The coffee shop is full of people. That was why Gabriel had chosen it after all. Large crowded places kept his potential clients from trying anything stupid. Over the years he’d learned that the best way to fly under the radar was to make sure he didn’t stand out. No one was going to pay any mind to an artist discussing a potential commission - no matter how wealthy the client was. Especially in a coffee shop where no one could hear themselves think. Now, the fact that Gabriel being an artist had mostly nothing to do with these transactions? Well, that was another beast all together. “Relax.” Gabriel shot the man a warm smile as he picked up his cup of tea and took a careful sip. “We’re just two men discussing a potential art commission.” And technically they were; it just wasn’t the important bit. He gestured to his sketchbook on the table between them. "Feel free to flip through some of my mock ups.” He slid the coffee cup away from the other man. “And maybe I should have ordered you decaf. You’re too wound up for coffee.” The man, Mr. Michaels, shot him a peculiar look before taking the proffered sketchbook and opening the first page. Gabriel understood his confusion. Art wasn��t actually what they were there to discuss, but Gabriel always threw in an actual painting. It made the money exchanged legal, and when Gabriel filed his taxes, he listed everything he was paid as part of his commission fee. Everything was by the book, at least on paper. He was an artist who just had a really bad habit of falling into bed with his clients. And he had the receipts to prove it. They bought a painting. Everything else just sort of… happened. “These are…” Mr. Michaels looked up at him. “Really good.” Gabriel smiled. He knew he was talented. The problem was that art didn’t pay the bills - not when he had three children to feed. He would much rather get paid all the time for his art, but he was a single parent. He didn’t have time to be pounding the streets and hosting shows in galleries that barely paid what he’d invested. Trying to break into the art scene took years, and constant effort. As much as he loved art, it didn’t make sense to waste his time working the scene. Not when he could get pounded instead and make enough in a couple nights work to keep his family fed for a month. “Aw, fvck, I didn’t mean.” And the other man looked embarrassed. He really was uncomfortable with the entire situation, which made no sense to Gabriel. Why set up a meeting with an escort when it obviously was the last place in the world he wanted to be? Gabriel laughed, and laid a hand over Mr. Michaels’ hand. “I know what you meant.” He assured him, giving his hand a squeeze before settling back into his seat. “It’s a large investment, and it’s probably more than you’ve ever spent on a piece of art before.” He gave the other man a significant look. Surely, he hadn’t thought that Gabriel would openly call what they were doing a date out in public. “But I assure you, every transaction is safe, curated to the buyer, and designed to fit your needs. It’s a hefty sum, but Mr. Michaels, I do not skimp on my materials. It will be everything you need for your lifestyle.” The other man seemed to be absorbing this. “Now, what is it that you’re looking for?” Mr. Michaels didn’t answer right away, but Gabriel wasn’t expecting him to. This was a delicate transaction and most of Gabriel’s clients weren’t the type who usually needed to buy company. They hired Gabriel because they were in a situation they couldn’t handle alone: weddings of ex-lovers, fundraisers, extended trips with families - places where a date was necessary but not just any date, one that would leave them better from their company. That’s where he came in. Before Mr. Michaels could say anything, Gabriel’s phone rang, and he swore under his breath at the ringtone. “Just a moment.” He pulled out his phone and turned slightly away from his potential client. “DJ, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” He listened for a moment before rolling his eyes. “No, I don’t know when I’m going to be home. You knew I had work today. That’s what the schedule is for, kiddo. If you want to go out with your girlfriend, bring the kids with you.” He rolled his eyes again. “No, you can’t just leave them alone. They’re too young to stay home alone. Have your girlfriend come over. End of discussion.” After ending the call, he turned back to face his client who once again was giving him a strange look. This man was making his head spin, and it had been a long time since any man gave him whiplash like this: client or not. “I have three kids.” He offered before the other man could ask. There was no shame in the way he provided for his children, but he’d learned pretty early on to keep things on his terms. When things were on his terms, nothing could be used against him. “Two girls and a boy. Now, what were you looking for?” Mr. Michaels swallowed for a moment before sliding the sketchbook back to him. “I like this style.” The page he left open was one of his sketches that was filled in with shades of blue watercolor. When Gabriel didn’t say anything, he kept talking. “My ex-boyfriend just got engaged. And…” He seemed to be looking for the right words. “I don’t care he's engaged. We broke up a month ago so the timing is suspicious, and annoying. Our families had always assumed we would get married.” A bitter look passed over his features. “The engagement party is this weekend and I have to attend. There’s no choice in the matter. Our families have owned their own firm for decades. I’ve never done anything like-” He waved a hand between them. “This before. Not that there’s anything wrong with you or what you do.” He sighed and looked somewhat frustrated with himself. Gabriel got the feeling he was trying not to judge him, but just didn’t know how to phrase what he was trying to say. “I just can’t go by myself.” Gabriel nodded. “Okay.” And those were the types of dates he preferred. They were playing a part, a role, and he was keeping him from doing something stupid. That he could do. “Now, let’s discuss exactly what you want.” - “Dilute the blue.” Delilah suggested from where she was laying on the couch doing her homework. She was supposed to be watching her younger siblings, but she apparently needed a break from supervising. “Or add some white but like not bright white.” Gabe pressed his lips together as he took in his daughter’s critique. His oldest child had inherited his art skills, unlike his other two children. “Tried that. It’s gonna whitewash it too much. Dark blue, maybe?” He shot back, taking a step back as he studied his work. Ten year old Cordelia chose that moment to come streaking into the living room, followed very closely by six year old, Knox. “You didn’t ask!” Knox screamed as he continued to chase Cordelia around. “Dad said you have to ask first.” He didn’t get a chance to ask them what they were fighting about before they continued their chase into the kitchen and out into the backyard. “Are you going to give him that before or after you let him take you away for the weekend?” Delilah asked. There was no judgement. He was pretty sure his oldest daughter figured out what he did to provide for them long ago, but she never outright asked him about it. The life they had in New Mexico had been hard; this life was easier. “Turn around is too tight.” He admitted. “We leave on Thursday. I should be back on Sunday.” Delilah nodded as she put her homework away. Apparently she knew she was going to have to wait until after dinner to attempt to get any more of her homework done. “And then next weekend I’ll get to hang out with my friends?” She asked hopefully. Gabe smiled at his daughter. “Definitely.” He agreed. “Once the commission is done, you’ll have your free time back until the next one.” “And I get the new Sailor Moon DVD set.” She added, immediately jumping up when Cordelia screamed outside. “I’ll go check on them. They’re gonna be p!ssed when they find out they’re stuck with me all weekend.” He sighed as he went back to painting. His daughter was definitely right. She dealt with a lot, but in terms of balance, even she knew that they were only living a good life because he spent time on his back. She chipped in as much as she did because she understood his sacrifices. She was the only person who would probably ever get it. - Jonathan, Mr. Michaels, is a mess of nerves, which Gabriel is beginning to associate with this client. They’ve been at the location of the engagement party (weekend event?) for about five minutes, but Jonathan hadn’t made a move to get out of the car yet. He’s having second thoughts, but Gabriel would have been surprised if he wasn’t having second thoughts. The other man didn’t want to be here, and Gabriel understood that. If the other man decided this was it, then Gabriel wouldn’t object. After all, he was getting paid either way and Gabriel was a last resort; he understood that in a very deep down sort of way. “Gabriel?” And that was one of Gabriel’s things, he supposed. He always gave his real name because in the end, the real goods were his paintings. The dates, well, Gabriel got something out of them, too. A sense of purpose mostly, but it was nice when he got to get off, too. This was not one of those dates. Jonathan made it very clear that he only wanted the boyfriend experience; he didn’t want any of the ‘extra perks’. And he got it, he did. At least, he was pretty sure that he did. He was going to respond, going to tell him that it was okay to just leave when he realized that someone was heading in their direction. “Jonathan?” He slid a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him towards him, not stopping until their foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe. It’s going to be fine, baby. Just breathe.” There was a look of confusion on Jonathan’s face, but he didn’t stop him when he kissed him. After all, this was what he was paying for - sort of. Or he was just really surprised - he wasn’t sure which. The sound of tapping on the window was what had Jonathan pulling away from him. He glanced towards the sound, and then groaned. Without a word to Gabriel, he got out of the car. Shrugging, Gabriel got out of the car, too, carefully running a hand down the slacks of his linen suit. This weekend was one of those weekends. Tonight was an informal c*cktail mixer at the estate. Tomorrow had something to do about sailing. The actual engagement party was Saturday. It was a lot, and as old family friends, apparently they were staying at the estate where everything was being hosted. He didn’t blame Jonathan for not wanting to be alone. There was nowhere to escape. “Mother, this is Gabriel.” Ah, well, that explained that reaction. “Gabriel, this is Virginia Matthews.” He overemphasized her name like it was supposed to mean something to him; it didn’t. He smiled his most charming smile, not fazed when there were suddenly house staff taking their bags out of the car. God, rich people events were the worst. “Jay, you didn’t tell me your mother was so good looking.” He linked their arms together like he’d known Virginia for years. “I think I chose the wrong date.” There was a pained sound as Gabriel and Virginia walked down towards the c*cktail party, but if Virginia didn’t comment on it, that meant he was doing his job right and it was an expected Jonathan reaction. Almost immediately he could feel the other man hurrying to catch up to them. “What do you do, Gabriel?” And he knew it would be an interview; talking to rich people always felt like an interview. That’s why he told Jonathan they would tell the truth - just slanted. “I work from home. I have three kids, two of which are still in elementary school. Their mother is out of the picture, so I do what I can to be around as much as possible.” Virginia seemed to assess this, and stopped them before they took the stairs that would lead them down to the party. She studied him for a long moment. He had no idea what she was looking for, but he had a feeling that nothing other than the truth would suffice. “And how did you and John meet?” He couldn’t help but to turn around and mouth ‘John?’ at him before turning to face Virginia again. That seemed like the appropriate reaction because Virginia’s intense gaze softened slightly. “A mutual acquaintance gave him my number.” He admitted. “I’m an artist. Commission pieces mostly, but I do take illustration freelance from a children’s publisher to supplement income when necessary. Jay was looking for something that now that I think about it, may have been a gift for you, but when we met to discuss details, I decided I’d rather ride him instead.” There was a scandalized sound behind them. “BRIEL.” And Jonathan sounded absolutely mortified . They hadn’t planned any shortening of names, but he supposed it was probably best for their story that they came naturally. Now Virginia’s eyes seemed to be sparkling with mirth. “Oh, John, I like this one.” And with that, she led them down into the party. - Somewhere along the line, Gabriel and Jonathan had gotten separated, which wasn’t at all surprising. There was a reason why he was able to charge as much as he did, and none of it had to do with how good he was on his back. Sure, he was good - obviously he needed to be, but he also knew how to work a party and blend in. This crowd, however, wasn’t just the run of the mill rich people, it was a political breeding ground, old money - which was an entirely different thing altogether. He was an outsider, which meant he was stuck to people-watching unless someone took pity on him. “Hey, you’re Gabe, right?” A pretty blonde woman asked him. She was tall, thin, and wore a very tight dress. Somehow he got the feeling that she wasn’t part of the old money crowd either. “I’m Madison, and I think you’re part of our crowd.” Before he could say anything, she hooked her arm through his and guided him over to a table where three other women already sat. “Ladies, this is Gabe. He’s the guy who showed up with John Michaels.” He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he sat at the table anyway. It seemed that he didn’t need to talk much - these ladies were more than happy to do the talking for him. Or rather Madison seemed to be content to do all the talking. “So, I’m Governor White’s third wife.” She waved a hand towards a brunette woman on Gabriel’s left. “Sofia used to be a nanny for the Crawford family. Now she’s Senator Crawford’s second wife.” Sofia rolled her eyes. “I was an au pair, thank you.” She leaned in close to Gabriel. “Don’t let her fool you; she was a stripper before she got married.” Madison shrugged. “I never said I wasn’t.” Then she turned back to her introductions, and waved a hand at a redhead. “Carli was Miss Rhode Island. Her fiancé was on the same rowing team as Jesse.” At Gabe’s confused look, she continued on. “John Michael’s ex? The reason we’re all here today.” She supplemented before turning to the third woman, a blonde who definitely had plastic surgery. “And this is Nikki. She used to be a playmate.” Gabriel blinked for a moment, as he tried to process all the information they had just given him. He tried to figure out why he thought he was part of their crowd. A second wife, a third wife, a playmate, and pageant queen. Where did he fit in there? He was none of those things. Although he was pretty similar in occupation to the former stripper. “We call ourselves the Trophies.” Carli smiled widely at him as she passed him a drink. “We’re the ones the WASPs gossip about at their weekly DAR meetings and charity fundraisers. We like it better than what they call us: social climbers. We’re not - for the record. Well, except for Madison.” The woman in question rolled her eyes. “Screw you.” She shot back, but she didn’t deny it and there was no heat to her words. “We didn’t mean to assume.” She started. “But you’re new.” “And pretty.” “And you look younger than John Michaels.” “And he keeps looking for you like he’s worried you won’t fit in.” And these women… they just looked so hopeful to have another person in their little group. And the thing was that they weren’t wrong. He probably did fit in with them a hell of a lot better than he did with the women that gossiped when he walked by. “Single father.” He said, offering them his own designation. “And artist.” Almost immediately the women started asking him about the kids, and he let himself get sucked into their world, if only for a moment. - The party was winding down. He still hadn’t met the groom-to-be in question, and he’d lost track of the Trophies. Not all of them were staying at the house. Carli was, but she and her fiancé had already wandered inside. The other women had left with their significant others to go to the hotel until tomorrow’s activities. He’d caught up with Jonathan, and the other man had asked for him to wait by the bar. Apparently he needed to talk to his father before they went up to their room. He was alone for less than five minutes when someone approached him. He’d been texting DJ to make sure the littles had actually gone to bed when he heard the male voice. “What’s a guy like you doing all alone?” The tone was smarmy, and he knew without looking up that this man was trying to chat him up. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m here with someone.” He dismissed, still not giving him any attention. There was a chuckle. “Oh, I know you are, but I know a nice, quiet spot where we could chat. No one would need to know.” And with that, the stranger grabbed his ass. Gabriel’s head shot up, and he narrowed his gaze at the muscular, sandy-haired man in front of him. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me.” He growled out as he slapped the man’s hand away from him. “A pretty thing like you. I’m sure you get around.” He was seething. Who did this asshole think he was? Before he could respond, he could feel Jonathan next to him. He didn’t know how he knew it was Jonathan, but he just knew. The other man wrapped an arm around his waist, which must have meant that… “Gabriel, I see you’ve met Jesse.” And Jonathan’s tone was downright cold. He glanced between the two of them. It was like a game was going on between them, but Gabriel wasn’t privy to the rules. “Jay?” And he disregarded Jesse totally. “Can we go to bed now?” - Jonathan didn’t say anything the entire trip up to their room. Although, rooms was probably a better term. There was a small sitting room, a bedroom, and an attached 4 piece bathroom. It was definitely a showy room. Gabriel had no idea why he was suddenly acting strange. They’d been fine all evening. Things were going smoothly, and now the other man wouldn’t even look at him. Their ground rules had been set from the beginning. The only thing Gabriel could think of was that the bed sharing bothered him? Maybe he’d been expecting two beds? All he knew was that Jonathan was in the sitting room fuming over something. Pushing his client’s weirdness to the back of his mind, he showered and got ready for bed. The other man still hadn’t moved. He tried to get his attention, but when there was no response, Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned off the light. He was almost asleep when the bed dipped. “Gabriel?” And it sounded like this was the thing that had been bothering him. “Have you ever been on a date with Jesse?” And now he was awake. Gabriel flipped on the light and sat up. “What?” Jonathan wouldn’t look at him. “You guys looked pretty cozy earlier.” He said. And that was it. Gabriel got out of bed. “You mean when I told him to fvck off and he grabbed my ass anyway?” He hissed out, grabbing a pillow. “Just because I work on commission doesn’t mean I fvck everyone that propositions me.” He took the comforter for good measure before stalking towards the sitting room. “And for the record - no. I haven’t been on a date with anyone here except for you.” And with that he pulled the sitting room door closed and curled up on the couch to sleep. About five minutes later, the door opened, and Jonathan was standing behind the couch. “Gabriel,” And he wasn’t sure if he’d come to apologize or if he was there to continue their conversation. Somehow he didn’t think Jonathan was the type to apologize. “Come sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep in here.” He kept his eyes closed and didn’t move. It was petty, and the bed was definitely more comfortable, but he just didn’t want to see the other man right now. Sure, he was paying him, but there was something about the other man accusing him of being the whore he was that didn’t sit right with him. Jonathan came around and straightened the blanket over him so it would cover him better before disappearing back into the room, not closing the door behind him. Gabriel tried not to think about what that meant. - “I’ve never been on a boat before.” Gabe admitted the next morning at breakfast. He’d gotten dressed when Jonathan was in the shower and went down to the patio where Carli was eating alone. Within minutes, someone from the house asked him how he took his eggs and if he wanted coffee. Carli had merely watched with amusement as he was brought scrambled eggs, fruit and a cup of Earl Grey. Carli raised an eyebrow at him. “How have you never been on a boat?” She asked him before popping a grape into her mouth. “Your man owns a yacht.” He wasn’t sure how being someone’s date had turned into everyone thinking they were a very committed couple, but he wasn’t correcting them either. “Men are easily distractible.” He offered. “And it’s easy to come up with excuses, too.” His new friend’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Gabe,” And all of the girls had just started calling him Gabe off the bat, which was actually kind of nice. “Are you afraid of boats?” Gabriel couldn’t help but to make a face at her. “Boats are fine. When they’re on land. When I’m not stranded out in the middle of black nothing waiting for a shark to eat me.” He grumbled out. Carli outright laughed. “Did Jaws scar you for life or something?” She shook her head. “We’re not going to be in open water. We’ll be on the lake. Gators are what you really should be worrying about.” He looked at her in absolute horror. “Please tell me you’re kidding.” He asked, the piece of fruit he’d speared falling off his fork. Before he could answer her, someone pressed a kiss to the side of his head and sat down next to him. Immediately he knew it was Jonathan. And he had a feeling he'd greeted him like that so he wouldn’t jump out of his skin at the sudden presence next to him. He also couldn’t help but to feel like it was an apology for their fight. “Who’s kidding about what?” Johnny already had a plate of food in hand, which made sense considering he was more familiar with the house. He also had a half-filled cup of coffee. His plate had bacon, of which Gabriel immediately snagged a piece. “Your boyfriend thinks he’s going to die in a tragic yachting accident today.” Carli tattled. Gabriel groaned. “I told you that in confidence.” He huffed out while Jonathan and Carli laughed at him. “But wait. You were kidding about the gators, right?” - He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The night before had probably set an assumption in his head. He wasn’t expecting a lazy day out on the lake. Everyone was more mellow, but that probably had a lot to do with the fact that the older generation had stayed back at the estate. That didn’t mean that social groups hadn’t formed like the night before, but unlike the night before, they were naturally forming. Once again, Gabriel and Jonathan had been separated. He was with a group of people he had gone to prep school with, and Gabriel was laying on a raft in the water with the Trophies. It made him wonder why Jonathan had even hired him. He seemed to be handling things well enough on his own. Then the other man would catch his eye and Gabriel would forget why it even mattered in the first place. For once during a job, he was actually having a really good time. The Trophies (and he wondered what it meant that he just so easily considered himself part of their group) were all lying face down on the raft when it happened. One minute the girls were giving Gabriel a rundown on all the drama within that social group, and the next they were all in the water. He sputtered for a moment as he let himself sink beneath the water. His very first thought was: they weren’t teasing about the gators? But when he resurfaced, he could tell by the laughter that Carli’s fiancé had swum underneath the raft and flipped it over. Gabriel tread water for a couple of moments as he tried to figure out how to either get back to the raft or to make it back to the yacht. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to swim. Theoretically he did, but swimming was definitely not a strength of his. Growing up he had lived in the water, or at least he had until his father caught him kissing another boy at the pool, and well… he didn’t do much swimming after that. He stopped thinking when he realized that Jonathan was swimming towards him. A stupid smile slid across his features before he could stop it. Realistically he knew he was on the clock, but watching as Jonathan swam effortlessly over to him, he forgot. The entire day so far had made it easy to pretend they were on a real date, that they were really a couple. It was so easy to forget they were both playing parts so Gabriel let himself slip further into the fantasy. He reached for Jonathan’s hands, and used the other man as leverage to kick his way back to the boat. Sure, he probably looked like a five year old at their first swimming lesson, but with the way Jonathan was grinning stupidly at him, he didn’t care. “If you didn’t know how to swim why did you go into the water in the first place?” The other man was laughing now, but Gabriel got the feeling that it wasn’t mean laughter. It was more like he couldn’t comprehend why he would try to do something he didn’t know how to do. Gabriel let go of one of Jonathan’s hands to splash water at him. “I can swim.” He tried to argue before rolling his eyes at the look on the other man’s face. “Fine. I forgot how to swim.” He immediately forgot why he was holding onto him in the first place and slipped under water for a second before Jonathan pulled him back up. The other man wrapped both arms around his waist. “You’re insane.” He laughed out and for the first time since he met him, he didn’t see the wound tight lawyer who had hired him. No, he saw a thirty-something just hanging out at the lake. There was something about the moment. Both of them in the water. The other man’s friends on their boats. The sound of other people splashing in the water. There was something important about that moment. So, Gabe kissed him. At first Jonathan froze. They’d talked about kissing when they met to discuss details. And he’d seemed okay the night before. At the time he had said he was okay with displays of affection, but that he drew the line at sex. Even after Gabriel had pointed out that he was, technically, a sex worker the other man had still balked at the idea - even though it was included in the overall sum he had paid up front. It didn’t stop Gabriel from giving him a safe word anyway - Roswell. The other man had raised an eyebrow, but had told him if he changed his mind he’d remember the word. But now, feeling how the other man tensed against him, he realized that maybe even kissing wasn’t on the table. He started to pull away, to apologize if he crossed a line, when Jonathan reeled him back in, and kissed him. It was… unexpected and intense. It was like he was trying to tell him something, but Gabriel had no idea what. Before he could think too much about it, a beach ball hit them smack in the face. Laughing, he pulled away, but kept an arm on Jonathan for balance. “Gabe!” Madison called out to him, and she was laughing from the yacht she was standing up on. “Stop sucking face and come take shots with us.” - For it supposedly being a weekend to celebrate Jesse’s engagement, he’d only actually seen the man when he groped him. He didn’t know if he’d skipped out on the lake or if Gabriel hadn’t noticed him before, but now that it was evening and everyone was back at the estate, it was like he was putting on a show. There was a bonfire cackling down near the shoreline, and they were all scattered around it. Somehow, Gabriel had wound up in a beach chair with Jonathan, his back to his date’s chest. At some point they’d eaten, but now Gabriel was just sipping at a glass of wine while he listened to some elaborate story Jesse was telling everyone about how he met his fiancé. The fiancé was blushing furiously, and Gabe couldn’t help but to think that their marriage wasn’t going to work out. He pushed that thought aside, and instead curled further into Jonathan, who was absently brushing his fingers through Gabe’s hair. It could have been the effect of being out in the sun or all the alcohol he’d consumed or maybe it was just Jonathan’s gentle strokes. All Gabe knew was that he fell asleep in the middle of the story. “Briel?” Jonathan was standing over him now, and pulling him to his feet. At least an hour must have passed. There were a couple of people still out by the bonfire, but it looked like most had either left for their hotels or already went up to bed. “C’mon, baby, let’s go to bed.” He was sleepy and compliant. “To Roswell?” He asked with a yawn, as he shuffled underneath Jonathan’s arm. The line was fuzzy again. Was he working or was this something real? He kept forgetting. Jonathan laughed. “Are you trying to get me into bed?” His voice sounded teasing, and Gabe couldn’t help but to wonder if he forgot, too. “Maybe.” Gabe admitted as he nuzzled against him for warmth. “Wanna take me to bed, Jay?” And much to his surprise - he actually did. - When he woke up the next morning, he was alone. He touched the space where Johnny had been sleeping, and it was cool to the touch. It was a sobering wake-up call, and it reminded him he was nothing but a paid good time. For all the pretending he had been doing, it didn’t change the fact that he was nothing but an escort. He felt sick, and was on his way to the bathroom, naked as the day he was born when Johnny walked in from the sitting room. “You’re up.” Johnny had a shy look on his face. It took a long moment for Gabe to realize that he was carrying a tray of food. Suddenly the sick feeling disappeared. He smiled back at him. “So are you.” And he shot him a wink before disappearing into the bathroom to take a p!ss and brush his teeth. When he came back into the room, Johnny threw a pair of boxers at him, which he automatically slipped on before crawling back into bed, next to Johnny. He looked at the tray of food, and couldn’t stop the grin that erupted across his face when he saw the cup of tea. “I asked the cook what you got yesterday and-” Gabe shut him up with a kiss. The silence was comfortable as they ate. There was something about it that just felt normal - like they did this every day. There was a little bit of talking, comments about today’s schedule of events, but it was nice. Whatever this was, it was nice. It was normal. Johnny’s phone went off, and as he went to take a call in the sitting room, Gabe set the tray off to the side and rummaged around until he found his travel sketchbook. He settled back against the headboard and opened to a blank page. It was a fairly blank book and he allowed himself to get lost in his own sketching. - Everything was going too smoothly. That should have been Gabriel’s first warning that something was going to happen. The party had started out nicely. He spent a good majority of the afternoon alternating between chatting with Virginia about art, and getting gossip from the Trophies. His defenses were completely down, and he was having a good time. And then, he got pulled out onto the dance floor. It was fine - dancing with Johnny, dancing with the Trophies. Everything was going well until a smarmy voice asked: “Do you mind if I cut in?” It was Jesse. Gabriel started to move away, assuming he wanted to dance with Nikki, but instead Jesse pulled him into his arms. Nikki laughed, making a light-hearted comment about how her assets were wasted on the gays before leaving Gabriel with Jesse. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde man. “If your hands drop below my waist, I’ll scream.” Gabe threatened. All Jesse did was laugh. “I’ll behave myself.” He promised as he led Gabe across the dance floor. For one brief moment, Gabriel thought this was the other man’s way of apologizing for his behavior on Thursday, but it was a short-lived thought. “So, how much is John paying you?” Gabe went still in his arms. “Excuse me?” He managed out, a chill running through his body. The other man continued to pull him across the dance floor. “For the commission piece you’re working on for him.” He clarified, not even commenting on Gabe’s reaction. It wasn’t until Gabe had relaxed slightly when he continued on. “Do you keep in touch with Paul Milner? I loved the piece you did for him.” He swallowed and met Jesse’s eyes. The other man knew. “You know, I didn’t recognize you at first. I guess you dress up to fit the part, right?” And he continued on as though Gabe had answered him. “We met a couple of years ago at a fundraiser. You probably don’t even remember me. You only had eyes for Paul, but the way you looked at Paul? You don’t look at John that way.” Gabe licked his lips as though it would buy him time. “What do you want?” He asked quietly, and in that moment he would give Jesse anything he wanted, even if it meant himself. All he wanted to do was to keep Johnny from getting embarrassed or worse. “At first I thought it was funny. I thought, wow. John must have been really upset if he needed to sink to hiring someone like you.” Jesse continued, his voice maintaining that calm, smooth tone as he spoke. “But then I saw how he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.” He really didn’t like the way this conversation was going. “What do you want?” He tried again. “After the party, you’re going to go home and John is never going to see you again.” Jesse told him calmly. “Our families sacrificed everything to create the firm, and I’ll be damned if I let him ruin everything for a pretty face and a mediocre ass.” Gabe glared at him. “And if I don’t leave?” He asked, offended that he thought his ass was mediocre. “Then I’d hate to think what would happen to your children when CPS takes custody of them after you're picked up for solicitation. I hear they like to break siblings up.” And that was the fatal blow. “If I leave tonight, you’ll leave my kids out of this?” He asked in a small voice. “You’ll never even see me again.” He promised. Gabe nodded. “Okay.” - The rest of the day felt bittersweet, and he couldn’t help but to try to savor everything just a little bit more. Every dance, every word. He didn’t know how a job had turned into this. How being around a man for one weekend felt like he’d known him his entire life. It felt dangerously unfair that he had to give him up, but this was the wake-up call Gabe needed. His kids were the only thing that mattered. After the party, he let Johnny take him to bed again, but it was different than the night before had been. He kissed him just a little bit longer. He rode him just a little bit slower. He savored every last moment with Johnny. Because that’s what this was: the last time he’d ever see Johnny. He stayed awake long after Johnny had fallen asleep, and Gabe knew he was trying to commit the other man to his memory. Once he was sure he was truly asleep, he crawled out of bed and got dressed. He took out the money from his “commission” and tucked it into his sketchbook before leaving both items on the nightstand for Johnny. And after one last look, he picked up his bag and left. A month later: It was a quiet Saturday morning. Delilah was still asleep. Cordelia was at a sleepover. Knox was watching a cartoon in the living room. Gabe had turned half the living room into his work space. After he’d gotten back from the incident he was calling The Final Date, Gabe had cut off all ties to his commission business. He changed his number, updated his work address, and accepted the offer from the children’s publisher to become a full time illustrator. It didn’t may as much as his previous job, and he wouldn’t have much time to work on his own art, but he still made more than enough to give his children a good life. And his kids? Well, they seemed thrilled that he was around more on the weekends. Knox was practically glued to his hips these days. He was sitting at his drafting table, multiple storyboards tacked up on the wall in front of him. A deadline was coming up soon, and the current author he was designing for wanted to see different styles of the same scene. It was driving him insane, but he was more than aware of how lucky he was to get to work while Knox offered helpful suggestions about what he liked best about different animals. The knock on the door startled him. “Oh, no, Knoxxy. Don’t bother getting up.” He commented drily as he wandered to the door. When he swung it open, he froze. There, standing on the other side, was Johnny. He swallowed, but found that he couldn’t get any words out. “You’re a hard man to track down.” Johnny told him, and when Gabe didn’t say anything further, Johnny looked past him. “Can I come in?” And when Gabe didn’t say anything or move aside, Johnny sighed. “The least you can do is talk to me after the way you left.” When he still didn’t move, Johnny rolled his eyes. “I talked to Jesse, Gabriel.” Gabe closed his eyes for a moment, and nodded. “Okay.” He stepped aside so Johnny could come into the house. Almost immediately, he walked into a sleepy Delilah who looked like she had just been woken up by Knox. “Do you want coffee?” And she was definitely looking around her father and at Johnny. The other man seemed startled, and Gabe couldn’t help but to wonder if he had forgotten about the children. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Emboldened by his sister, Knox looked at Johnny. “Do you want cereal?” He asked hopefully. Gabe rolled his eyes. “Delilah?” He asked, and his daughter ushered her brother into the kitchen. “Sorry about them. We don’t get a lot of visitors.” He led Johnny into the living room. “Where’s the other one?” He asked, as though he was expecting Cordelia to drop down from the ceiling. So maybe he hadn’t forgotten about the children after all. He gave Johnny a weird look, watching as the other man immediately was drawn towards the unfinished painting in the corner. It was the piece Gabe had been working on before their trip. The piece he had been working on for him. Gabe’s storyboards. “At a sleepover. Well, she was last night. Eventually I have to pick her up.” He studied Johnny for a long moment. “What are you doing here?” Johnny finally looked at him. “I have no idea.” He admitted. “I just wanted to see you. I’ve had your address for a couple of weeks, but I…” He just shrugged as he trailed off. And as the kids wandered back into the room with coffee, tea, and cereal, Gabe couldn’t help but to think that this was the beginning of something good.

[tsghamptonsnewyork]

Scouted LOCAL Holiday Gifts

Grab your favorite warm bevvie, curl up in a comfy chair, and get ready to take down some notes, because we’ve scoured the Hamptons and have come up with 72 incredible local gifts, for all sorts of people, at all different price points. Many of these shops even sell online, so click right through and add-to-cart! We hope these gifts will inspire you to shop local this holiday season, at these stores and so many others, and maybe grab a little something for yourself while you’re at it...

STOCK UP FOR ALL YOUR HOLIDAY PARTIES!

1. The sisters that own THE HIDDEN GEM in Southampton, Temidra and Tanya Willock, are incredibly talented and actually design many of the beautiful items you’ll find there, like these lobster tea towels. From home decor, to accessories, ornaments and art, this shop really is a treasure to discover.

2. COMERFORD COLLECTION in Bridgehampton is incredibly sophisticated with a mid-century inspired, yet completely unique vibe all their own. These matchsticks have a wonderful back story, go in and ask them how the wood gets its incredible texture. 

3. DESTINATION HAUS in Amagansett is like a beachy-modern art gallery come to life with decor and gift items galore. These statement candles will thrill any hostess with their unique simplicity.

4. SEA GREEN DESIGNS in Southampton is packed full of sustainably designed goodies for the home. Shannon, the owner, works from a place of true respect for our beach environment and an incredible eye for beach home style.

5. WÖLFFER ESTATE wines are always a hit during the holidays. This Merlot has intense, concentrated flavors, balanced with great elegance, finesse and depth, and incredible aging potential. 

6. Coconut at Christmastime? You better believe it! You won’t believe how quickly these TATES Coconut Crisp Cookies will become ‘the best Christmas cookies you’ve ever had’. And with a gluten free option, every hostess can indulge a little. 

7. Pick up a copy of renowned local architect firm Bates Masi’s book at SOUTHAMPTON | SAG HARBOR BOOKS and discover how they developed their signature style, not around an aesthetic, but around a method. The perfect Hamptons coffee table book.

8. If you bring a hostess flowers, do it right. Order a beautiful custom arrangement from SAG HARBOR FLORIST in a container, not wrapped in paper. This way you’re not giving your hostess extra work, and the statement will be very well received. 

9. An elegant spin on a hostess favorite, these twig salad servers from HOMENATURE in Southampton make a beautiful statement that compliments any decor.

EAT, DRINK AND BE MERRY!

1. L & W MARKET in Bridgehampton has so many house made local preserved goods in beautiful packaging perfect for gifting to your favorite local foods loyalist.

2. You can’t go wrong with these 14k gold leaf wine glasses from Amagansett treasure DESTINATION HAUS. Perfectly elegant and luxe.

3. Baked, packaged and sold by adults with special needs, SOUTH FORK BAKERY is a wonderful local non-profit organization, providing skills, employment and a supportive environment for its employees. Plus the baked goods are beyond incredible. 

4. SEA GREEN DESIGNS features beach house decor with both traditional and modern appeal. Just imagine how charcuterie and fruits will pop against this sleek white board. Gorgeous.

5. When buying a gift for someone too sophisticted for words, hit up MONC XIII in Sag Harbor. From the outstanding facade, to the incredible treasures beyond, the most discerning recipient will be quite pleased. Serving a lobster bisque with fine sherry and truffles? This is the ladle for the job.

6. Simple, clean and utilitarian. GANSETT LANE HOME in Amagansett is full of gifts like this decanter, that can’t miss.

7. Launched this past summer, The Bridgehampton Inn Cookbook is already a treasured favorite everywhere. Did you catch Jimmy Fallon raving about the book and the Van Kempen family on the Tonight Show? And LOAVES AND FISHES is a must-go for any foodie on your list.

8. We bought these beautiful little utensils last summer and we use them all the time! THE WEATHERED BARN in Greenport is chock-full of unique artisan and in-house designed treasures for just about everyone on your list.

9. STICK + STONE in Amagansett shares the space in the back of the applied arts building with GRAIN SURFBOARDS. Aynsley and Brian are so talented and down to earth and the treasures you’ll find are true artisan quality. Whether you hit one of their holiday markets or just pop by, make this a must-go stop on your holiday list.

A LITTLE SOMETHING FOR THE LADIES

1. SATORI has been in Sag Harbor forever, and Lee Ann Bulgin has done such a wonderful job with the space. Open, clean and inviting, and full of finds like this soft-as-heaven purple hat.

2. HIDDEN GEM in Southampton isn’t just home decor and art, you’ll find some gorgeous little accessories there too!

3. NATUROPATHICA started in East Hampton about 20 years ago and is now a nationally renowned brand. The calendula cream is epically luxe and their gift sets are priced right. A perfect introduction to the brand for a beauty aficionado.

4. We’re so lucky to have DR. KEN MARK right here in Southampton. Nationally celebrated for his innovative skin cancer and cosmetic dermatology practice, he has also designed one of the most advanced and effective skin care lines available. Stop in his office to discover what all the local celebrities are raving about.

5. Local favorite clothing store GLORIA JEWEL was the dream of hard working womanpreneur Megan Chiarello. She makes you feel so welcome, and helps you find all the perfect gifts for your loved ones (and maybe a little something for yourself too)

6. We love WÖLFFER, everyone loves WÖLFFER. Have you tried this playful pink gin? Made with the skins of harvested grapes, without too much juniper, it has a delicate yet complex palate. Perfect for a dry Holiday martini, and that label though, divine. She will love it.

7. We just can’t handle the beauty of this purple pom throw by SHED TEXTILE. It’s just beyond words, and is destined to be a treasure for any lucky recipient.

8. Every girl deserves a little boho shimmer during the holidays. These knotted bags at JOEY WÖLFFER in Sag Harbor are selling out fast, so get over there now!

9. These INTO THE WOODS gems were the ‘it’ bags of the summer, but don’t write them off for winter! These deep jewel tones are stunning paired with cashmere and fur. And she can bring them along on her winter vacation too!

HORSES AND PUPPIES AND BIRDS, OH MY!

1. You never know what you’ll find at ENGLISH COUNTRY HOME in Bridgehampton, but what we do know is that you’ll find some of the most elegant, unusual and precious home decor, new and vintage, that you’ll ever see, like this butter dish.

2. Local artist JACKIE MALONEY is a nature lover and it shows. Her watercolor prints feature birds, fish, and all sorts of local wildlife, and they’re incredibly affordable so grab a few!

3. Feuds are ‘for the dogs’, but not when It’s Boston vs. NYC in the cutest way possible. ACK V HAMPS is notorious for their playful Nantucket vs. The Hamptons watercolor art, and this sweet print takes it next level. Woof!

4. The folks at SYLVESTER & CO in Sag Harbor definitely have a thing for dogs. If you love your furry friend, or you’re shopping for someone who does, get over there and check out their adorable wares like this set of mugs. Obsessed.

5. RUBY BEETS in Sag Harbor is full of breathtaking vintage finds and custom pieces. This Hobbyhorse would make a stunning addition for any home.

6. Newcomer BOWTIE PET CLUB has some truly adorable finds for your furry friends. Woof Cliquot anyone? Don’t mind if we do!

7. Know someone who has a resident dog, and an empty coffee table? I think you’ve found the perfect match. HOMENATURE in Southampton is full of nature inspired treasures and some cute canine finds too.

8. You don’t have to be an equestrian to appreciate the style of this chic wrap bracelet. THE TACK TRUNK in Amagansett has so many brands and items you won’t find anywhere else in the Hamptons, so get over there for your favorite horse lover quick!

9. Who doesn’t love MECOX GARDENS and their grand, garden-chic decor? Want to splurge on your favorite canine enthusiast? These greyhounds are royally elegant, yet simultaneously adorable.

THE KEY TO HER HEART...

1. Is there anything cooler than fossilized, prehistoric shark teeth covered in silver and gold? We think not. FIN Montauk has you covered.

2. JENNIFER MILLER opened her Southampton boutique in 2004 and since then has acquired a loyal celebrity following. Her upscale, yet super wearable and fun designs are always treasured. 

3. LOVE ADORNED in Amagansett has the sweetest most delicate, hand crafted pieces at all different price points, like this ring. It’s the perfect stop for a little something special for that special someone.

4. GLENN BRADFORD in Southampton has very cool designer vintage pieces mixed with his own designs, with themes ranging from spiritual to tattoo like this key charm (each charm sold separately).

5. Local boho chic royalty, JOEY WÖLFFER, mixes a curated selection of awe inspiring pieces (like these earrings) with her own designs at her shop in Sag Harbor. Plus her authentic and cool vibe keeps her fanbase loyal.

6. Some pieces, like this LOVE necklace, are just so perfect and sweet you want to wear them every day. Megan Chiarello of GLORIA JEWEL is so good at finding the things that make you feel good inside and out. 

7. Local artisan BLUE FEATHER WEATHER handcrafts classic sterling and turquoise jewelry by hand. These Pilot Mountain Turquoise rings are made with beautiful stones harvested in Arizona. Reach out through IG for purchase info.

8. Eleni Preston of MADE SAG HARBOR is a goldsmith with GIA accreditation who has been working with Biwa, Keshi and natural pearls since 1980. For her, making jewelry is a holistic way of producing from a pure material, precious and non-precious stones, in a circular, regenerative way.

9. From internationally renowned jewelry designer TAMARA COMOLLI, this Mikado Flamenco in the color story Sky consists of light blue Sky Topaz, electric Swiss Topaz and moody London Topaz. It perfectly captures the deep and endless feeling of blue skies.

PARENTS WILL APPRECIATE THESE GIFTS AS MUCH AS THE KIDS...

1. PETIT BLUE in East Hampton has a wonderfully curated selection of gifts for kids of all ages, We’re obsessed with the style of this ride on, it will instantly elevate any playroom, besides being a ton of fun.

2. Don’t forget to grab you some Freezy Freakies at FLYING POINT SURF! Just took you back to childhood for a minute there didn’t we?

3. ETHEL + ROW in Sag Harbor has a wonderful selection of gifts that will make mom and dad just as happy as the wee ones. Every playroom needs a teepee for hiding, reading and storytelling.

4. FLYING POINT SURF always has great stuff for the kids so we had to pick 2 loves in this category, this little hoodie is nothing short of adorable.

5. GOOD Westhampton has gifts for everyone on your list including the wee ones. What’s cuter than a tiny Hamptons onesie? Not much.

6. STEVENSONS in Southampton has an incredible selection of wooden toys, classic stuff, popular and unique toys, plush, ride ons, legos, puzzles, stocking stuffers and so much more. This house is destined to be a hit.

7. This critically acclaimed children’s book by Jimmy Kimmel will bring the silly out of any serious goose. BOOKHAMPTON has a gift for everyone on your list.

8. EGG New York in Southampton has some of the cutest baby duds around and this little love hat is no exception.

9. The 3 young opera singers who launched THE OPERA DOLLS this summer started it with the goal of making opera tangible, relevant, and accessible to young audiences and beyond. Follow their adventures in Kenya and Europe on social media.

STUMPED FOR WHAT TO GET HIM?

1. If your dude is a dad, aspires to dad fashion, or just really likes MONTAUK HARD LABEL WHISKEY, then this hat is the gift for him.

2. Is he feeling a little cranky and rough around the edges? Soften up your man with CBD salt scrub from local MMJ pioneers HEMP IN THE HAMPTONS (by Hampton Medi Spa)

3. Does your guy live in Quogue, live near Quogue, or just love Quogue? Then you need to swing into THE QUOGUE SHOP. They have all sorts of cute and preppy Q items, like this belt, for your favorite “west of the canal” dude.

4. Morris & Sons in Southampton has some seriously dapper duds. We’re obsessed with this hunter green tie.

5. WHITEWATER OUTFITTERS isn’t just for hard core fishermen (I mean, it’s for them too) but you can pick up all sorts of cool gear and accessories for your manly man there. We love this Grundens Cap and he will too.

6. Is your guy elegant and manly? Or does he aspire to be? This Yak Horn from DESTINATION HAUS is about to make his desk, or bookcase, or nightstand the coolest spot in the house. 

7. Has he been good this year? I mean, really good? Let the friendly staff at LONDON JEWELERS help you pick out the perfect timepiece for your perfect gentleman, we happen to be fans of Panerai.

8. Is there anything tougher and cooler than a good Carhartt? He doesn’t need to be outdoorsy or mechanically inclined to enjoy the warmth and ruggedness of this classic jacket. Keep it local and pick one up for a good price at FISHER SIGNS AND SHIRTS in Southampton.

9. Again, for the win, SYLVESTER & CO in Sag Harbor has gifts for dogs and dudes too! This Man Can is perfect for when you’re feeling stumped.

10. We’re all stoked about the return of the Sag Harbor Cinema, and you can find branded goods throughout the village but even bigger names are getting in on the action. This cap from BONGIORNO supports the restoration project and flaunts your love of local.

FOR THE QUIRKY, WILD, AND YOUNG AT HEART...

1. A first edition JRR Tolkein? C’mon, you know there’s someone in your life that would give their first born for this one. Find it at SOUTHAMPTON BOOKS.

2. The Holidays are a great time to get a book that helps you recover from over indulging. 

3. Morgan & Kydd makes the most beautiful handcrafted paper goods, this just might be our favorite card this season.

4. For a textile based company, St Frank definitely has a quirky affinity for the unusual. This one is for the sophisticated yet slightly dangerous crowd.

5. Wyeth has incredible style, and these bookends are no exception. An elegant statement for the bold aesthete.

6. RBG on the tree? Count us in.

7. Could anything be more seasonally appropriate and less cliché at the same time than Nordic Tales? This book is a stunner.

8. Subtle and earthy, this keychain from LOVE ADORNED pays homage to the 60′s and/or maybe your high school days. Yup those are magic mushrooms. 

9. LEVAIN BAKERY in Wainscott has the biggest, softest gooiest cookies on the planet, and they ship!

10. The overlap area between entertainment and decor is a sweet spot for everyone. MECOX for the Domino game win.

So that’s it folks! One thoughtful gift is always better than a bunch of big box sale stuff. There are great gifts to be found all over the North and South Forks at all different price points. Buying locally is a more enjoyable experience than the big chains, you find better, more unique stuff, you get to meet interesting people, hear stories about what you buy, and you actually help your community. Keep the following “Pick 3 Spend 50″ rule in mind as you shop this month, and always...

[a-h-arts]

"ENOUGH GOODIES TO KEEP IN YOUR ART BOOK COLLECTION" His work is semi- impressionist. Lot's of landscapes & people. When you get a ton of his stuff in this over 200 paged book there is bound to be some of his work where in my opinion the fat should have been trimmed here and there. Go to Amazon

A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition ... A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition that the Royal Academy has ever produced for a single artist! His work is stunning and watch his youtube videos, He is a delightful character and explorer of what it means to look and how to translate that onto a canvas. H was an innovator in the late 70s and is still questing and inquiring into the limits of visual language today. Super happy with this purchase despite it taking 6 times as long to get it than was indicated by the listing. Go to Amazon

Enhances the exhibition beautifully. We saw the "Bigger Exhibition" at the DeYoung in San Francisco in January. Had to get the exhibit catalog book as a birthday present for my beloved in March. The book covers Hockney's most recent career turn in beautiful detail, with text and visuals for the portraits, the stunning landscapes in Yorkshire, his works on iPad, and his black and white drawings. A must for a Hockney fan. Go to Amazon

Hockney-a Triumph at the de Young Although I had been aware of Hockney's work for some time, this book, to accompany an exhibit at the de Young Museum in San Francisco, illustrates the amazing quality of Hockney's draftsmanship and his unbelievable range. We see exquisite drawings done on an I Phone, I Pad, and marvelous charcoal sketches. There is work with multiple video cameras. The scenes near his home in England done with watercolor on paper or oil and multiple canvases are spectacular. This is not a traditional coffee table book-the pictures are too wonderful to put the book down. Go to Amazon

Documentation of a wonderful exhibit Hockey is one of the most brilliant colorists ever. The exhibit this book accompanies was awe inspiring, and I bought the book as a way to remember it. My one complaint - the reason for only three stars - is that the colors are off. Of course printed illustrations of digital art will never be as bright as the originals, but since books are digitally composed, why can't the colors match better? I have experience printing digital art so I know that some printers can turn RGB digital images into perfect CMYK prints. Go to Amazon

Fabulous Hockney ! I saw the exhibition and had to have the book! Go to Amazon

Beautifully Illustrated Lovely book about David Hockney. The illustrations of his paintings are first class. I'd often see folks leafing through the book as it resided on the coffee table. Go to Amazon

Five Stars I've always love his work and I am happy to just flip the pages and get ideas ;-) Go to Amazon

Perfect! Five Stars He loved it very much Five Stars Five Stars Four Stars Really good reproductions I saw his show in San Francisco and thought his work was amazing. Hockney Book (Catalog)

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: Cloud Blossoms

Paul D’Agostino, “Cloud Blossoms 1” (2017), watercolor, ink, felt marker, graphite, and charcoal wash on paper, 12 x 9 inches

Disclaimer #1:

In a very real way, these “Cloud Blossoms” drawings are about as vapid as they look. Frivolous eye candy for some, perhaps, and maybe relatively pleasant as such. For others, idiotic visual treacle, more or less, and likely several drops too much. I’m fine with either take on them, really. I’m also fine with a regard of complete indifference. At the same time, some of the drawings do just happen to engage in joyously silly dances when looked at through 3D glasses. So, there’s that to consider. Oops!

Those are a few possible takes on my “Cloud Blossoms,” takes that might well have been made more resolute following the note about 3D glasses — the likely effect that note had on the treacle-seers. Speaking of treacle, and while I’m still here disclaiming, I might as well also acknowledge that it’s abundantly possible that looking at my “Cloud Blossoms” brings to mind the Care Bears, because that’s what happened to me at one point as I was photographing them — which did seem an almost exaggerated act to perform on works like these.

But it is true that I thought, with mixed chagrin and delight, ‘Care Bears!’ And then, an instant later, ‘Care Bears.’ You know, because sometimes one thinks with punctuation. The more I thought about that, and the more my thoughts went back and forth in punctuation, the more resolved I became that there must be something about a certain mix of blues and pinks that causes the brain to conjure an entire spectrum of colorful little teddy bears who live in the sky and shower love, happiness, peace, well-being, and other 80s myths all over the place. Right?

Well, I suppose this would require being of a certain age, which I am, and having a certain slightly-less-than-passive awareness of Care Bears, which I do. All the same, I did think the Care Bears were a mushy drop of treacle too much even way back when I was a kiddo — long before I would’ve used the word treacle, obviously, which was also a time when no amount of exaggerated sweetness was ever ‘too much,’ particularly with regard to breakfast cereals — in part because I was much more a fan of Transformers, WWF wrestling, Garbage Pail Kids and, very soon thereafter, Thrasher Magazine, among other things that weren’t very Care-Bear-like. This is back when Thrasher’s inner pages were still printed on newsprint, by the way. It had a smell; it sullied your hands; it advertised mostly skateboard decks, wheels and other parts, and hardly ever shoes; and it would even feature round-ups of contest results, which were interesting and important to the sport back then. You bought Thrasher and sometimes TransWorld at local surf and skate shops, where you’d also leaf through the concurrent mix of surfing magazines, in no small part because of the significant presence of girls in very slight bikinis in those periodicals, a tendency which didn’t filter into skate mags with real consistency until the early 90s, most notably with one called Big Brother.

Paul D’Agostino, “Cloud Blossoms 3” (2017), watercolor, ink, felt marker, graphite, and charcoal wash on paper, 12 x 9 inches

Big Brother, oh my, what a magazine! Visionary! Transitional! Transcendent! Excellent skate photography, a somewhat oversize format overall, lots of raunchy humor and, yes, copious soft porn. Come to think of it, some of it was actual porn. On a magazine shelf, at your local skate shop! What a coup! It was also a definitively problematic skate mag to look at in school. I’m pretty sure a skater or two was beaten up for snagging someone else’s Big Brother.

Back to the Care Bears, though. They were out there too, or perhaps up there, in the Zeitgeist, right there alongside so many other broadly propagated falsehoods about the better angels of government, commerce and society at large, or about alleged improvements in equality and opportunity and so on. This is not to say that the Care Bears were part of some massive 80s conspiracy to dupe the distracted masses into waving American flags and pledging allegiance every day (remember that?) while overlooking the incipient dismantling of all manner of generally supportive sociopolitical structures and democratic mores. The Cold War hadn’t quite yet come to its supposed ‘end,’ after all, so such superstructural shifts, probably so subtle at the time as to be nearly imperceptible, were often obscured if not subsumed by the greater narrative of The United States of America versus The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. And so on.

No, the Care Bears were (probably) not part of some conspiracy like that. Although if they were, then the Cabbage Patch Kids were in cahoots with them, along with professional sports and soap operas, sitcoms, and talk shows, Saturday morning cartoons, minivans, and home improvements, and enough soda pop to fuel many a journey to space.

Those Care Bears, though, were very much a part of the popular consciousness — relevant to the ‘kindness and might’ of the USA and the evangelical movement alike. At least, they must’ve been, because they were everywhere — all over the place in toy stores and department stores, not to mention at the homes of most all of your friends who had younger sisters, and just generally visible on everything from TV to t-shirts to some kid’s Trapper Keeper. And you know, visuals sink in. So those visuals sunk in. This is also because, you have to admit, the quality of those graphics was more than passable. A few simple lines. Entire personalities conjured out of belly-bound emblems and colors. The Care Bears were also quite fun to draw—because sometimes you drew them getting ripped in half by Transformers, Voltron, or the Powell & Peralta ‘Ripper’ guy.

There were good cartoons back then. There were great cartoons back then. There might also be great cartoons now, but I don’t really know. What I do know is that gems like Ducktales are obscure to college students these days, as I recently learned from some of my students. Do they also not know Muppet Babies? What about Ren & Stimpy, who really carved the way for so much newfangled cartoonery thereafter, along with The Simpsons? I do believe they’re aware of The Simpsons.

Paul D’Agostino, “Cloud Blossoms 5” (2017), watercolor, ink, felt marker, graphite, and charcoal wash on paper, 12 x 9 inches

Well, before this first disclaimer gets any more out of hand, I’ll move on — because if I don’t, I’ll soon get on a ‘useful’ tangent about the joys of certain breakfast cereals, especially those high-octane sugar-fests that had the best graphics and most lovable ‘mascots,’ and that your parents would almost never let you get.

And so, in sum, the thrust of Disclaimer #1: My “Cloud Blossoms” are insipid drawings, and easy to like, hate or ignore (with or without 3D glasses). They might also be reminiscent of the Care Bears, icons, and associative memory-conjurers of an entire era.

Disclaimer #2: There’s not much of anything interesting or justificatory to say about these drawings, and they’re not in any fundamental way ‘about’ our times, these times, strange times.

Disclaimer #3: You’re still here? There’s not even a third disclaimer.

Well, no matter the content of my disclaimers, my “Cloud Blossoms” drawings, however devoid of concept or active sociopolitical commentary, do exist for a reason. They’re the result of wanting to make — starting one weekend afternoon, on a whim and while listening to a basketball game on the radio — some corny drawings in a variety of media.

That desire to make some corny, mindless drawings had its partial impetus in a need to get away from the cerebrally crushing news cycle that day, because it was a day in 2017, and nearly every day of the news cycle has been like that this year.

That’s also why these drawings don’t have any words on them at all, which is somewhat atypical for me. I tend to relish merging texts of various sorts with drawings of various sorts, especially when working a bit insouciantly with simple materials on paper.

This was also around the time I had written quite a long treatise on ‘the difficulty of words’ this year, thanks to the caustic nature of debate and the generally shocking or harrowing nature of the news. I wrote that as a cover letter for a job, actually, knowing quite well it wouldn’t really ‘do the trick,’ as it were, of getting me the job. It certainly didn’t.

However, I did think it might ‘do the trick’ of somewhat counterintuitively making ‘words’ thereafter ‘less difficult’ — to receive, to read, to write, to process — which it did. A catharsis of sorts.

Paul D’Agostino, “Cloud Blossoms 6” (2017), watercolor, ink, felt marker, graphite, and charcoal wash on paper, 12 x 9 inches

But I still didn’t feel like putting words on these drawings. I just felt like toying with the image of thick ‘happy’ clouds having flowers blooming out of them. ‘Better than silver linings,’ I thought.

I also thought, ‘What if ‘cloud seeding’ could do this!’

And now I’m wondering if perhaps 2017 has been a particularly great year for questions beginning with ‘What if…’.

These times do feel very hypothetical, conditional, conjectural, if in fact ‘times’ can ‘feel’ that way. They’re also not awfully different — although it’s possible they’re relatively more awful — than the ‘times’ a few decades ago, as described in Disclaimer #1.

It’s all very weary-making, even for the most fearless and thickest-skinned among us. The fellow below is a testament to that. He loitered on my block for a few days a couple weeks ago, then simply disappeared.

Ah, to disappear!

The post Cloud Blossoms appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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[a-h-arts]

A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition ... A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition that the Royal Academy has ever produced for a single artist! His work is stunning and watch his youtube videos, He is a delightful character and explorer of what it means to look and how to translate that onto a canvas. H was an innovator in the late 70s and is still questing and inquiring into the limits of visual language today. Super happy with this purchase despite it taking 6 times as long to get it than was indicated by the listing. Go to Amazon

"ENOUGH GOODIES TO KEEP IN YOUR ART BOOK COLLECTION" His work is semi- impressionist. Lot's of landscapes & people. When you get a ton of his stuff in this over 200 paged book there is bound to be some of his work where in my opinion the fat should have been trimmed here and there. Go to Amazon

Enhances the exhibition beautifully. We saw the "Bigger Exhibition" at the DeYoung in San Francisco in January. Had to get the exhibit catalog book as a birthday present for my beloved in March. The book covers Hockney's most recent career turn in beautiful detail, with text and visuals for the portraits, the stunning landscapes in Yorkshire, his works on iPad, and his black and white drawings. A must for a Hockney fan. Go to Amazon

Hockney-a Triumph at the de Young Although I had been aware of Hockney's work for some time, this book, to accompany an exhibit at the de Young Museum in San Francisco, illustrates the amazing quality of Hockney's draftsmanship and his unbelievable range. We see exquisite drawings done on an I Phone, I Pad, and marvelous charcoal sketches. There is work with multiple video cameras. The scenes near his home in England done with watercolor on paper or oil and multiple canvases are spectacular. This is not a traditional coffee table book-the pictures are too wonderful to put the book down. Go to Amazon

Documentation of a wonderful exhibit Hockey is one of the most brilliant colorists ever. The exhibit this book accompanies was awe inspiring, and I bought the book as a way to remember it. My one complaint - the reason for only three stars - is that the colors are off. Of course printed illustrations of digital art will never be as bright as the originals, but since books are digitally composed, why can't the colors match better? I have experience printing digital art so I know that some printers can turn RGB digital images into perfect CMYK prints. Go to Amazon

Fabulous Hockney ! I saw the exhibition and had to have the book! Go to Amazon

Beautifully Illustrated Lovely book about David Hockney. The illustrations of his paintings are first class. I'd often see folks leafing through the book as it resided on the coffee table. Go to Amazon

Five Stars I've always love his work and I am happy to just flip the pages and get ideas ;-) Go to Amazon

Perfect! Five Stars He loved it very much Five Stars Five Stars Four Stars Really good reproductions I saw his show in San Francisco and thought his work was amazing. Hockney Book (Catalog)

[a-h-arts]

A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition ... A fantastic book! beautifully done coverage of the largest exhibition that the Royal Academy has ever produced for a single artist! His work is stunning and watch his youtube videos, He is a delightful character and explorer of what it means to look and how to translate that onto a canvas. H was an innovator in the late 70s and is still questing and inquiring into the limits of visual language today. Super happy with this purchase despite it taking 6 times as long to get it than was indicated by the listing. Go to Amazon

"ENOUGH GOODIES TO KEEP IN YOUR ART BOOK COLLECTION" His work is semi- impressionist. Lot's of landscapes & people. When you get a ton of his stuff in this over 200 paged book there is bound to be some of his work where in my opinion the fat should have been trimmed here and there. Go to Amazon

Enhances the exhibition beautifully. We saw the "Bigger Exhibition" at the DeYoung in San Francisco in January. Had to get the exhibit catalog book as a birthday present for my beloved in March. The book covers Hockney's most recent career turn in beautiful detail, with text and visuals for the portraits, the stunning landscapes in Yorkshire, his works on iPad, and his black and white drawings. A must for a Hockney fan. Go to Amazon

Hockney-a Triumph at the de Young Although I had been aware of Hockney's work for some time, this book, to accompany an exhibit at the de Young Museum in San Francisco, illustrates the amazing quality of Hockney's draftsmanship and his unbelievable range. We see exquisite drawings done on an I Phone, I Pad, and marvelous charcoal sketches. There is work with multiple video cameras. The scenes near his home in England done with watercolor on paper or oil and multiple canvases are spectacular. This is not a traditional coffee table book-the pictures are too wonderful to put the book down. Go to Amazon

Documentation of a wonderful exhibit Hockey is one of the most brilliant colorists ever. The exhibit this book accompanies was awe inspiring, and I bought the book as a way to remember it. My one complaint - the reason for only three stars - is that the colors are off. Of course printed illustrations of digital art will never be as bright as the originals, but since books are digitally composed, why can't the colors match better? I have experience printing digital art so I know that some printers can turn RGB digital images into perfect CMYK prints. Go to Amazon

Fabulous Hockney ! I saw the exhibition and had to have the book! Go to Amazon

Great show, Great catalog, GREAT price! Enjoyed this wonderful new Hockney show at the deYoung, but was looking for a more reasonably priced catalog. This one seems to be of the same top quality, and identical to the one for sale at the museum. Go to Amazon

Beautifully Illustrated Lovely book about David Hockney. The illustrations of his paintings are first class. I'd often see folks leafing through the book as it resided on the coffee table. Go to Amazon

Perfect! Five Stars He loved it very much Five Stars Five Stars Four Stars Really good reproductions Five Stars I saw his show in San Francisco and thought his work was amazing. Hockney Book (Catalog)

[a-h-arts]

Hockney-a Triumph at the de Young Although I had been aware of Hockney's work for some time, this book, to accompany an exhibit at the de Young Museum in San Francisco, illustrates the amazing quality of Hockney's draftsmanship and his unbelievable range. We see exquisite drawings done on an I Phone, I Pad, and marvelous charcoal sketches. There is work with multiple video cameras. The scenes near his home in England done with watercolor on paper or oil and multiple canvases are spectacular. This is not a traditional coffee table book-the pictures are too wonderful to put the book down. Go to Amazon

Enhances the exhibition beautifully. We saw the "Bigger Exhibition" at the DeYoung in San Francisco in January. Had to get the exhibit catalog book as a birthday present for my beloved in March. The book covers Hockney's most recent career turn in beautiful detail, with text and visuals for the portraits, the stunning landscapes in Yorkshire, his works on iPad, and his black and white drawings. A must for a Hockney fan. Go to Amazon

"ENOUGH GOODIES TO KEEP IN YOUR ART BOOK COLLECTION" His work is semi- impressionist. Lot's of landscapes & people. When you get a ton of his stuff in this over 200 paged book there is bound to be some of his work where in my opinion the fat should have been trimmed here and there. Go to Amazon

Perfect! Great condition! Really informative beautiful book. Go to Amazon

Fabulous Hockney ! I saw the exhibition and had to have the book! Go to Amazon

Documentation of a wonderful exhibit Hockey is one of the most brilliant colorists ever. The exhibit this book accompanies was awe inspiring, and I bought the book as a way to remember it. My one complaint - the reason for only three stars - is that the colors are off. Of course printed illustrations of digital art will never be as bright as the originals, but since books are digitally composed, why can't the colors match better? I have experience printing digital art so I know that some printers can turn RGB digital images into perfect CMYK prints. Go to Amazon

Excellent text, extremely well illustrated. Excellent text; extremely well illustrated. It presents a large body of work seldom seen and never in one place. The exhibition currently is at the de Young Museum in San Francisco where I live. Reading this book before going to the exhibition greatly enhanced my experience by eliminating the need to read the text mounted on the wall so I could focus just on the pictures. Go to Amazon

Beautifully Illustrated Lovely book about David Hockney. The illustrations of his paintings are first class. I'd often see folks leafing through the book as it resided on the coffee table. Go to Amazon

Five Stars He loved it very much Five Stars Five Stars Four Stars Really good reproductions Five Stars I saw his show in San Francisco and thought his work was amazing. Hockney Book (Catalog) Beautiful