The Blue Phoenix Inheritance_In the Quiet of the Snow_On the Road in the Year 2319_The War of Art
Catalog Guide:
The Blue Phoenix Inheritance
“Hello, I’m Wayne Moto. My father was Manny. He said when the time came, I should pay my respects when your husband passed. I’m sorry for your loss.”“I’m Amelia. My husband didn’t like your father.”“They were friends once.”“I don’t know about that. My husband said he lost half his business when your dad opened his shop. My husband was here first. He said because you dad was Japanese people wouldn’t buy anything oriental from us after that. We couldn’t sell Occupied Japan China. We couldn’t sell any China. We couldn’t sell incense. We couldn’t sell statues. Buddha’s not Japanese but people wo...
In the Quiet of the Snow
He woke up to see the snow swirling from the sky, frozen fingers that stroked the tress and kept them asleep; pummeled the drive way and the path that ran through the trees to the lake; shaped the truck into a giant half made snowman.It reminded him of his childhood. When he was a kid, all throughout the year he would think about the first snow of the year and the adventures that it would bring. He dreamt about it every night, making balls and men and angels and forts from the frozen crystals. It energized him in Spring, cooled him in Summer and brought him to the unbearable peak of excitement...
On the Road in the Year 2319
Waves of dry rain pinged off the windshield as the old Caddy careened through the mushroom forest. Dean maxed the wipers, clearing the tiny spores. The road appeared in snapshots, the way a strobe light in a dancehall captures shifting spastic poses. I cursed Dean, expecting each blade-swipe to reveal the object of our deaths – a giant mushroom in our path an instant before we’d plunge into its meaty stalk.“Howee!” Dean said. His forearm rested at noon on the wheel, and his eyes fixed on the strobing view of the road.We zoomed past phallic stalks rising thirty or forty feet with bulbous caps p...
The War of Art
“No?”The cat doesn’t stick around to answer, which is answer enough to the question.The man takes another look and shakes his head. He could have sworn that this was real. That it was genuine. That it had something about it that made it count. He lingers a while longer and fights a shocking urge to cry. There is sadness there, but also a rage. He wants to rage over the injustice of it all, but how cwww.onedoor.ccan he when it’s as much his fault as anyone else’s.He walks into the next room, the room that moments earlier, the cat casually walked into, and for a second he panics that he has lost his feline co...