TURNERS FALLS, MA — The entire world has been invited to Nina’s Nook, operated by gallerista Nina Rossi in the village of Turners Falls, Massachusetts. Prints and small carvings by 0.001% famous artist Theo Fadel will be for sale through August 8. The Nook is five feet wide.
“There’s tonnes of space” said Tiny Dragon, a 2mm scale figurine previously featured in the Charlottean. Known as Tiny D, she is Fadel’s manager. “This used to be a hot peanut shack. It holds sixteen thousand and eight hundred short tons of peanuts. Off the top of my head, that’s twenty-four million a hundred ninety-two thousand individual naked peanuts, and change. That’s a lot of peanuts, so I don’t think it’s gonna be too crowded. I think even some walnuts could fit. I ain’t even included the alley garden out back which has no roof, so sky’s the limit. Seven and a half billion goes into sky’s-the-limit real easy because of the magic of outer space.”
“I love Turners Falls” added Redbird, a celebrity holiday ornament from Holyoke, Massachusetts who is also managed by Tiny D. “Just yesterday I went swimming with friends in the fish ladder, and tomorrow we’re going over the falls in twelve ounce coffee cups. It’s just grand!”
Nina’s Nook is a true gallery. Architecturally speaking it is half room, half hallway and belongs to the same building typology as the Guggenheim Museum in New York City as well as the Grande Gallerie of the Louvre in Paris, France. The Nook, like the Louvre, transforms an old corridor into brilliant exhibition space.
Indeed, the Nook gallery was a twentieth century alley shoppe selling roasted peanuts. Later it was the bottle depository of a candy store. Comparably, the Louvre was a twelfth century fortress. It later served as an art laden palace and artistes’ dormitory before its conversion during the French Revolution to a public exhibitorium. Details and timelines of both buildings are available on their websites.
“Nina Rossi has done something immeasurably special with this alleyway. She’s an artist and poet herself” commented Redbird. “Up here, near the Vermont border, the Connecticut River is not so wide as when it reaches the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Speaking of which,” interrupted Tiny D, “did you know that back in the day Rossi operated a fish winch on the P-town docks?”
“I did” continued Redbird, “and the reason why is that the wine-dark sea is everywhere available to whomever will brave it.”
Nina’s Nook is located at 125A, Avenue A in Turners Falls, Massachusetts. The hours are here. The mini show of work by Theo Fadel, imperfect people, runs from July 1 through August 8. The entire world is invited to a reception July 8, 4 to 7pm. The Gallerie is closed July 4.
EASTHAMPTON — Two figurines are claiming that Tiny Dragon is a fake. Roberta Busenberg and Man-Wizard announced that “Tiny so-called Dragon is not a regulation table-top miniature!” For three hours the two screamed into a breeze and flapped air quotes with their fingers while a group of local raptors circled the tower.
“I have been in fantasy-reality since 1977” said Busenberg, “and I have never seen this so-called dragon until last week.”
Man-Wizard added “She is not an authentic table-top miniature, and she is not a dragon. She may be a counterfeit gryphon. Her wings are not normal.”
“Forget normal” chucked Busenberg, “her entire assembly is ugly. Plus, she is not made of natural metal.” The man-wizard explained “She is made from a material we call plastic which burns to a foul cinder. She could not light tobacco, much less be a dragon. We are calling upon the entire gaming world from the top of this high, vapour enveloped tower.”
Busenberg and Man-Wizard are vintage table-top gaming figurines. They are cast of an imprecise lead alloy and sculpted in the imprecise and archaic scale of 1:72ish which allows one meager inch for a five to seven foot tall magic man. They live by the harsh conventions of table-top war games in which every New-English garden is a tableaux of combat and carnage.
“We are made of lead” explained Man-Wizard, “If hit very hard we may change the shape of our leaden skull, but more so we are very, very dense. We resist change at all costs and intend to win everything.”
Within hours Tiny D held a press conference on the disco mezzanine of her BMX training facility. “Sure, I know her,” she replied when asked about Busenberg.
“Do you know what’s lead poisoning? Busenberg’s entire brain is lead. Have you tried to call her? Half her reception is always blocked. Also, she’s got so much bismuth and tin that two hundred degrees will toast her marshmallow, and I’m talking Fahrenheit. She can’t make a muffin. Same goes for that son-of-a-bullet wizard.”
As Tiny D spoke, the celebrity-ornament Redbird was practicing in the background, riding in fast circles. He is featured in the new roadshow, Butterfly Wheels.
“If they want to believe I’m some kind of vinyl” continued Tiny D, “then they are welcome to come and roll a couple of dodecahedral dice in my front yard and find out what is hi-temperature silicone.
And hey, regarding if am I a gryphon, who says I’m 1:72ish scale? I am not 1:72ish scale. I am two millimeter scale which makes my beer can alone equal to eight feet tall. I stand twenty-two feet when you punch the numbers and I’m pretty sure that’s a dragon. Again, my yard is open if they want to find out.”
Tiny D was asked why her wings are not normal, as previously observed by Busenberg’s Man-Wizard. “Don’t think this is bad lipstick all over my face” she calmly replied, “because you would be sorry because it’s fire and blood.”
Redbird cruised up to the disco mezzanine. “Did you know,” he asked, “that miniature models make sapience possible? It takes a handful of worlds to really make it happen. I can’t explain it. I just work from magical show to magical show.”
“Yeah” added Tiny D, “I exactly just said what he’s telling you — fire and blood.”
Note: At press time Busenberg was pressing west on Route 141 towards Nashuannuck Pond and Cottage Street. Security for Butterfly Wheels has not been increased, not even a tiny bit.
MICRO-NEW ENGLAND — Sunshine Butterfly is the new freestyle road show starring local celebrity Redbird. Redbird twirled on a sparkling finger-bike made by Sunday during the opening gala at Nashawannuk Pond. The show theme song Everybody’s Riding 1:18 Scale Finger-Bikes Because That’s What Size We Are was performed by Tree Angel and Klothespin Krewe.
“We’re really happy!” beamed Redbird taking a break, “It’s a great show and we’ll be taking it to the towns and roadside snack shacks of western New England. Come out and see us! Maybe have a french fry or a piece of popcorn.”
Sunshine Butterfly is partly sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts in a program to increase wilderness literacy through summer stock theatre. Many country mice and bluebirds have never seen a plastic-velveteen bird, neither have they read the word “Sunday” which is printed in plumped up Century Schoolbook across the frame of Redbird’s bike. Redbird himself is working for free. “I’m doing it for the small, illiterate, rural animals and also for the seasonal ornaments that want to get a little summertime work. The Christmas tree hasn’t raised wages in ten years and it’s tough for them.”
The show is produced by Triple-D Entertainment of Holyoke. “Triple-D means what it looks like,” said the owner in a phone interview with the Charlottean, “It’s an entertainment company.” Tiny D (Tiny Dragon) is of unknown origin, but has quickly established herself in the contentious world of seasonal show business. “I created this show because the summer is boring” she continued, “It’s stupid in the storage closet after Christmas. There’s strings of lights half of them burned out, and you have to crawl out anyway when you want any tiny tall-boy beers.” Describing the show she said “I just make stuff up and these unemployed holiday ornaments sing a little song and we got a show.”
When asked about the performance schedule for Sunshine Butterfly Ms. D replied “There ain’t no schedule. Either you’re lucky or you’re not, but I got most of the Saint James Avenue Holiday Tree ornaments signed on until Labor Day. It’s insane. So, if you’re lucky I think you’re gonna be pretty lucky.”
Western Massachusetts — A small frog dressed in a golden crown has been sighted skipping through local landfills swinging a tiny paper lantern at the end of an old bamboo skewer. “Light belongs to everyone who sees it. Every single person owns the chance to see it” she explained. “That’s pretty much it.”
Easthampton — Cottage Street Art Zoo is open and displaying caged art works this weekend and next, to . . . well, anybody really. Art works range from friendly to ferocious but all are caged so no worries. Studio number 428 on the canal side is open Saturday and Sunday and will contain Theo Fadel; woodblock prints; some drawings, pastels and paintings; sculpture carved of wood; a few relief carvings; small wooden dolls or effigies as you please; a book The Chemical Wedding by Christian Rosencreutz in a new edition by John Crowley illustrated by Theo Fadel; sketches and drawings from the aforementioned book; something else; and otherwhat.
One Cottage Street in Easthampton, Massachusetts: Saturday, December 3, 10AM to 5PM; Sunday December 4, Noon to 5PM; and again on Saturday December 10, 10AM to 5PM.
Tonite! At The Forgotten Brewery in Easthampton! 7pm!
Besides a reading by the marvelous Mr. John Crowley, there will be a few pencils and inks from the illustration work on display for your viewing pleasure.
HOLYOKE — A fancy ghost was attacked early this morning by a mob of miniature pumpkin gourd people. “I am completely unscathed” said Fancy Ghost “because I’m a hundred percent neutrinos. I wouldn’t have noticed they were hacking at me except you came over and told me. I was too busy fancy-dancing”.
It is unclear why the crowd became hostile. “Don’t like it!” howled one miniature-pumpkin-head. Another slowly swang a cocktail fork while glaring at the happy Ghost.
“These are gourd people, Gordians,” explained the popular Christmas ornament Redbird. “Fast footwork confuses and frightens them. They have only a thin layer of wax to protect against rot and fading and they rarely avoid the compost pile for more than one season. They live on what they can make at Halloween. No one hires them at Thanksgiving.”
“Showboat!” someone shouted, throwing a handful of wet seeds at, through the ghost.
“Fancy Ghosts have easy lives” continued Redbird, “They never rot and they get all the work they want from Halloween through Dicken’s Christmas.”
The ghost had resumed dancing. “I’m just trying to be seen!” it cheerfully said to the crowd, “That’s what ghosts do!”
“Would it kill it to look at someone else?” sighed Redbird, “It’s already a ghost.”
At press time the ghost was still dancing and the crowd still trying to punish it with toothpicks and pickle forks. Nothing is expected to change anytime soon.
Amherst, MA — Has Emily Dickinson been the victim of a grand literary negligence? A local hobbiest in Dickinsonian studies is claiming that poem #754 “My Life had stood — A Loaded Gun –” has been misquoted in the literary record for eighty-seven years due in part to a loss of freely available laudanum in pre-war London.
“Look at the poet’s original manuscript,” squealed 0.001% famous artist Theo Fadel through a megaphone outside the Emily Dickinson Museum while waving a facsimile of the poet’s original draft. “It’s My LIVE! Come on! Quit saying It’s My LIFE, which is a Bon Jovi song — Doesn’t anyone know the difference?” Ms. Fadel acknowledges that a real academic may have already noticed, somewhere, but being an amatuer herself, how should she know? She does know that no one has come around to fix her books.
The original manuscript actually does say “Live” and not “Life.” The word live was exchangeable with the word life, archaically. A docent edging his head from a museum shop window suggested to Ms. Fadel that the original editor of 1929 believed she had tweaked the poem into modern English. Throwing a handful of hemlock cones the amateur scholar snapped through her megaphone, “How do you people get these jobs? Emily Dickinson IS modern English. What’s to tweak?”
A yard squirrel spitting mary-gold petals from its mouth spun on its heel to add, “And live has everything to do with a loaded gun. Why would she NOT use a word that means explosive as well as life when describing the position of life force between the material mechanicals of this world and an ultimate reconciliation with eternity? Why not?”
“I suppose,” ventured the docent, “that the v of live enables a phonetic gesture towards the word love what with Loaded directly beneath supplying the ohhh sound and tons of her poems bind the measures of living life and love.”
A cyclist illegally speeding across the museum grounds hit an exposed oak root and shot over his handlebars onto a small pile of gravel and loose teeth. Raising a bloodied face he smiled, “Love, even Harold Bloom knows that when Emily uses the word Master she’s invoking a geometry of Romantic Love, in one or another reality.” The cyclist refers to lines 13 through 16:
“And when at Night — Our good Day done–/ I guard My Master’s Head–/ ‘Tis better than the Eider-Duck’s/ Deep Pillow– to have shared–”
“Enough!” shouted Ms. Fadel. “Okay, so some publishing people made a mistake in 1929, in Londonia. Between the banning of Lady Chatterley’s Lover and The House at Pooh Corner, people were fagged out. Minds were blown. Understand? And has anybody yet recovered from the loss of unregulated laudanum? We can forgive the reckless disregard of one of the greatest poets of the English language, but for the love of God after 87 years of misprint after misprint could we just fix it?!”
Ms. Fadel is drafting a bill for the US Senate that would mandate the US Postal Service to print millions of adhesive backed v’s in a variety of fonts and ship them worldwide to all owners of print copies of poem #754. “I’m also asking for millions of O‘s,” she added, “because a yard squirrel who knew Monique Wittig has just pointed out a problem in line 10 where a capital O has been disfigured into a U.”
Read a transcription of “My Live had stood” here.
MICROGNOMIA — Not for Vulcans this region where violet stems are lumber and money grows in tiny magical chamber pots at the ends of garden sprinkler rainbows — until now. T’ikun-tok is the new and first ambassador from the planet Vulcan to MicroGnomia. She is crawling across the region on her hands and knees in a goodwill tour, passing out gourmet fungi while passing the Vulcan Peace. Villagers at first confused have quickly learned to “make the Vee thingy” in hope of a chanterelle tossed their way.
“She rolled me a white truffle the size of my head” exclaimed Seamus O’Sark whose last name means “honorable beetle” in Vulcan. “I can curl my tongue too! But she dinna give me anything for it.”
The Vulcans long ago gave up their elving ways and can neither mine nor manufacture humor and cuteness. “It’s impossible to create successful ad campaigns for useless kitchen appliances and unnecessary medications without something cute and maybe funny” explained Spockton Hulala, a Vulcan trader now based in Carbon Creek, Pennsylvania. Vulcan is one of the Milky Way’s largest manufacturers of single cup coffee makers and repositioned pharmaceuticals, neither of which can be sold to Humans without the use of hypnosis. Industry experts have long warned that without a reliable source of buffoonium the Vulcan economy will collapse.
Buffoonium is an inexplicable element used in hypnotic constructions. It saturates the ground in all of MicroGnomia. “Every citizen of MicroGnomia is a miniature buffoonium mine” quiped Ambassador T’ikun-tok, “We want to be friends.”
“Is this a sincere overture to law abiding trade, or is it the start o’ an invasion?” shouted a small figure in a fancy jacket atop a tall, swaying tower of twigs.
O’Sark lightly scraped a tooth across his truffle then paused. “She’s an awfully big boned lass” he ventured as the Vulcan ambassador moved along down the tiny highway, “but look how she’s got the ears of an angel.”