Amelia's
in collaboration with Haley Grubor of Pragfu Press.
housekeeping/update
Friends, little ghosts, my apologies for the extended absence. It was unplanned. But, the rest was sorely needed. Summer is a difficult season for this spectre. The sun is overstimulating, the heat is nigh unbearable even at night. My joints are stiff and creaking despite the sweating and consistent steaming. As the sun flares, as do they. So, I thank you for the patience. And we will resume our usual this week.
Summer is a belabored depressive swing in this sector of cranial pressures. And the synapses flicker a bit dimmer. However, as a treat, I leave you with one of my favorite projects from this past Spring.
In collaboration with, I’m proud to say, a beloved friend and colleague Haley Grubor. Haley is a vastly talented multi-disciplinary artist with an aptitude for spotting the shiniest of shiny trash. They are a magpie of interdimensional travels collecting their treasures through time and space. Beautifully gifted, gift-giver. And playful painter. Their passion is with the tradition of printmaking. Follow them on Instagram @pragfu.press for more on their work.
For their show, Solace, I drew inspiration from the drawing below for a short horror story. Enjoy.
Amelia’s (originally shown as “Now Serving”)
Amelia’s is an infamous bar located in the Crescent district of Mossis, unbeknownst to the living. Ran by Amelia, herself, she has been the sole owner and operator for over three long centuries. The burning question is, of course, can an octopus run a bar? If you have to ask, then, you’re not from around here. Sources have yet to confirm if she is amongst the living or liminal. For those unaware, we have many ghosts, terrors, and undead animals, human or otherwise, that roam and work here well after their initial mortal exits. A few curses linger here and there, between the cracks in the sidewalks, floating on the prayers of those making their way to and from the river—in heels, at times, no less. On the way, should your corporeal form be less opaque with life, one can find themselves at Amelia’s in the old Star Laundry off East Broad. It is easy enough to find when you no longer have anywhere else to be. ‘Please use the northern exposure entrance. Mind the poison oak.' Stars hang from an absent ceiling dangling twilight above the discotheque’s floor. Neon pinks and blues zoom in vivid checker-board tiles across most surfaces. A projector whirrs quietly with an ongoing showing of the movie ‘The Shoreline.’ A never-ending reel of the ocean’s shore—sort of. It is a shore, indeed, but one is not sure which shore. Or what kind of shore, to be sure of, no one knows. Which, according to sources, puts one in a trance for an undisclosed amount of time. Putting a patron ‘out,’ as they say. Amelia possesses the only copy of the film. Amelia declined to comment on how she came to own said copy. Less peculiarly, there is a devoted ‘underwater’ section and oxygen is sold for those less gilled, or breathing air rather regularly. The house special, ‘The Beak,’ is unlimited pours of a simple, but potent, dark lager with a light smoke called ‘Brining Liquid’; 14$ with a tagline in the description: ‘You can stay as long as you like, as long as you’re ‘out.’’ The trick is not to watch the movie, for too long, at one time, but still a little bit, if you can manage it. It is a learned skill, though not particularly useful. You can even grab a six-pack to-go of the damp lager to try at home! A perfect drink before the long nap, or at-home brine for a wide variety of meats or other forms. Silent Discos every new moon and Wednesday’s are half-off to all those who are half-gone. We'll see you on the other side, another time.