Boston, Paul Laffoley, & Me

Back in the mists of time, I examined the esoteric nooks of art and found some who particularly inspired me.  One among these was Paul Laffoley, an architect-visionary-painter with a unique style that blended rationality, subtlety, and the classical.  I found and obtained my first rare book, The Phenomenology of Revelation.  I also first purchased photographic prints of exhibit work over ebay.

On one of the photos I bought was written an address.

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(This address is dated to the production year of my truck, the Millenium Phoenix, also the year my parents immigrated to the USA.)  I sent a postcard to this address under one of my pseudonyms.  Artistically creepy, I hoped?

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I received a letter and a business card from the artist, still present at the same address!

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And I didn’t have the gumption or conception for any further dialogue… but I treasured that tiny exchange.  Until I was recently bound for Arisia 2017 Boston , when I thought, “Hey! I’d like to go see Paul Laffoley.”

Well bummer to discover that he died in November 2015.

But I made the pilgrimage.

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The Boston Visionary Cell is no longer to be found on the business list.

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There are lofts available in the building…

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But Mr. Laffoley’s old suite is now occupied by the pattern room of one Blank Label.

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I was pleased to note that his door was still open to me, even with no one inside.  His looks over the parking lot.

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Strangely, no one on my whole way in or out knew his name.  Like everyone left together.  Here’s to him.  Thanks for writing back.

geochronmechane

Back Home, Story Hiatus, Liminal Alchemy

I am back home after an amazing Hawaii-Boston jaunt.  Many things are in the works, and I’ll alert you from here that story postings will be on hold until February.  But I’ll still be around twice a week to deliver other updates, from art to events.

I will be present with The Magical Typewriter at a gallery art party on 1/28 in Seattle, called Liminal Alchemy .

Friday the 13th, Sketches

I was met today with issues that eventually worked themselves out, but ate my time for event coordination.  So The Magical Typewriter is not opening its door tonight at Arisia, but shall on Saturday and Sunday.

I watched the Ig Nobel Prizes on the convention tv channel, which included a study on whether alcohol consumption attracts more mosquitoes (study says yes).  Convention TV is great, so so great.

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Here’s a peek at sketches I tossed down for some 11th Sequence (book 2 chapter 2) sections.

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Arisia 2017, Boston

Here’s to possible new friends in unknown territories!

I’ve made passing visits to Boston twice, and found it to be impressive and intriguing.  I have the great good luck of a Con or Bust sponsorship to Arisia 2017, where I’ll host a pop-up event with The Magical Typewriter!  All three nights (1-13/14/15), I’ll be facilitating your typewriterly urges.  Look to the events postings inside.

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Why Con or Bust?  I am a filipina-irish first generation american emerging writer.  Many people would like to hear voices from varying kinds of heritage in the science fiction & fantasy community, and Con or Bust manages the bounty of donated sponsorships available to achieve this – from attending memberships to other available aid, by fans for fans.  There are possibilities for conventions across the United States.  They can help make things happen!  And they will even be AT ARISIA.  This organization is an independent offshoot of the Carl Brandon Society, which hosts a number of prize awards with the same mission at heart.

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“I am the monarch of the seas, living the dream that I’ve always dreamed…” The cheery tune approached them from around the corner, and they were greeted by a gentleman who appeared very merry to meet them. He was dressed Foshani, in a loose shirt of loud seaweed floral print, linen trousers that went partway down the legs, and rope sandals.

“Greetings! I am Arjun Woollibee, of the firm Woollibee & Woollibee. I am the head abyssal inverse dwelling designer. Around here, they call me First AIDD. Yes – I created my own job title. If you have an injury, then you talk to medical.”

The First AIDD made a courteously staged bow and continued. “We have a little time before the tide current brings us under again. There is no defying the tides here on Foshan. Now, they bear us as we have asked. Soon, they will draw us in as we intend.”

“First orders,” and with that the host promptly ignored the General as he focused on the dragon. “I have looked forward to this meeting for some time, Arkuda. And the setting, in every respect, is stranger and more fantastic than I could even have guessed, though I created it.”

“Arjun.” The dragon, er white scales gleaming gold, lowered er bulk into an almost-kneeling launch stance. In handed-headed-torso-bipedal-winged form, Arkuda held er ornamentally ornate wings like a lifted cape. Formal golden jeweled raiment trailed from shoulders and horns. ‘E pointed er horns at Arjun Woollibee and huffed.

The human stepped forward to the dangerous assembly of horns at chest height. He laid his hands on them and began to murmur a stream of indistinguishable language. His eyes alternately widened and narrowed as though reading, a smile flitting to and from his face. Arkuda’s breath was audible and controlled. This stretched on for minutes, as Woollibee made permutations of alignment contact with Arkuda’s horns. The man stood back, wiping sweat off his brow, then mirrored the dragon’s stance in front of em. They lifted their eyes to look into each other’s.

Then they sat, still facing each other; quietly, for equally as long, eyes opening and closing. A seeking was generally about something, but Claymore couldn’t make a guess as to this case. From where he waited to one side while this took precedence, Draig realized he’d been holding his breath. He recalled a visual memory of a small bird doing something very similar, hopping amongst Arkuda’s horns like they were branches. That hadn’t seemed unusual, but then, that was the only time he’d ever seen it. Do birds seek dragons for their own reasons?

He thought back to his first official meeting with Arkuda, part of the very complex process of becoming General Alisandre. It seemed casual in comparison. He wondered at the difference, then acknowledged there was no reason the meetings should be at all alike.

The General’s reverie ended when they stood. Their host went to him directly. “If you can stand a little vertigo, we can move to the end room further ahead, where we can view the descent.” Claymore nodded with surety.

Woollibee talked as they moved. “In here, gravity works more like a spaceship than a watercraft. Don’t assume you know up or down as we go, or that there is an up or down – it’s easier on the constitution. It takes more training to live here than it does to visit. Just know: your feet are on the ground and will remain so.”