When last we met, Jemmy was giving me the Dickens — in a joshing sort of way — over not properly introducing Morgan to the readers … in a Technicolor photoshoot of colorful alien skins and fantasial costumes.
To which … I agreed that she was right. And, as Morgan looked on in fascinated horror, I started to make my plans ….
Read the rest of this entry »
Read the rest of this entry »Look how the light of the town
the lights of the town are shining now
Tonight I’ll be dancing around
I’m off on the road to Galway nowLook how she’s off on the town
She’s off on a search for sailors though
There’s fine fellas here to be found
She’s never been one to stay at homeHome you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay
And you’ve work to do in the morning
Give up your dream of going away
Forget your sailors in GalwayTéir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú
Téir abhaile riú Mháire
Téir abhail gus fan sa bhaile
Mar tá do mhargadh déanta1
Well there won’t be no stars
Coming out in the sky
Tonight when my baby walks by
Oh they know that they can’t hold a
Candle to the look in his eyes
— “French Waltz,” performed by Nicolette Larson; written by Adam Mitchell; from the album Nicolette
I haven’t been to Heth Haute Couture for a while, but I’m glad I stopped in recently for the current collection. Hethwen Collinwood has put forth several fantastic pieces; both myself and Jem stocked up while we were there, in part for a storyboard series I’m working on. There was also a men’s formal suit, so I sweet-talked Conan into posing with me when I learned of an upcoming event, and how I could put the gown to a second, better use.
I learned of this event while flipping through Facebook. Blue Heart supports autism awareness, and seeks money to help fund work with the autistic. Having known two young men on the spectrum for several years, and their needs, I can encourage you to support this group and its goals. The Event itself will be held from May 17-22; there is also a party on Sunday, April 20, and a fashion show on Saturday, May 19, both at noon SLT.
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The details:
Harper (as “Keiko”) wears:
Conan wears:
Note: lots of graphics beyond the break, but worth it
Nights in white satin
Never reaching the end
Letters I’ve written
Never meaning to send Read the rest of this entry »
Taking a smoke break outside of the strip club near the station’s main promenade, the bleached-skin woman tries to gather her energy and determination for the next round back inside ….
I work in the chorus doing three shows a night
Wearing fishnets and feathers under blinding white lights
I’ve served shots to hard hats who had booze on their lips
Been fondled and leered at for an occasional tip
And it don’t get no better, but it can’t get no worse
For the working girl’s world is the size of her purse
From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl
Sweating for sweet water just to run through your hands
Six kids in Cleveland for one wedding band
Tied up to a mill loom for the minimum wage
A nest egg’s a daydream that never gets laid
And it don’t get no brighter, but it’s clearer to see
There ain’t no working girls like the ones on T.V.
From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl
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I’m wearing:
Photographed at INSILICO region
They say that magic becomes real at the crossroads
The places not quite here
Yet not quite there
The balance points between “was” and “will be”
When the doors between worlds open
And possibilities are unleashed
The twilight is like a crossroads
The borderland between
The light of day and dark of night
You may slumber through the night
And drift through the day
But then the sun truly descends, and the shadows lengthen
The day’s cares are abandoned
As if they had never been
As the magic grows
You race for your home
But oh, only for a span of time
The power swirls about you
As you shed the weeds of workaday
It caresses and teases, the sweetest of lovers
As you gown yourself in glory
It sings sweetly to all your senses
While you touch paint to your lips
Shadow to your eyes
Roses and musk to your throat
And then the door is flung wide
The spell is set
And it shapes your night like a sculptor’s hand to the marble
You give yourself over to gaiety
Drown yourself in music
Reel in the dance’s intoxication
You flirt and flaunt, tease and tempt
Till you capture the one
Who has in turn captured you
And when that moment strikes
Upon the chimes of the night
Then…a new spell begins
— Harper Ganesvoort, 2017
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The location is The Place — though not that place. (Ten points, a free God’s Blessing, and a trip to the chalk line if you can tell me which place that place is, and why.) And you would not believe what I’ve went through to get these few photos. There were more, but I had no shadows at the first place I tried, and then I forgot to save the gown the first time through, and lost track of a headdress I was wearing — I have headdresses across so many different spots in Inventory, I hate as a librarian and a supposedly “organized” person to admit it. I’ve finally said, “To hell with it,” and I’m going with the basic gown I put together, sans headdresses, staffs, and other magical adornments. But what a dress, and what adornments I do have in here. First of all, the gown is PurpleMoon — need we say more? When Poulet Koenkamp does it, she does it right.
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
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