Untitled - Ingrid Kallick

based on The Long and the Short of Long-Term Memory by Cecil Castelucci

This is a preview of a piece of art that will be auctioned off for the Interstitial Arts Foundation. To learn more about the auction, please visit: iafauctions.com


0 comments

No comments for this photo. Add a comment >

    IAFAuctions.com is part of the fundraising arm of the Interstitial Arts Foundation, a not–for–profit organization dedicated to the study, support, and promotion of interstitial art.

    IAF Photostream
    Remembrances Like A Heavy Dream by Mia Nutick The Animometer Valentines The Long and the Short of Long-Term Memory Book Shatterglass Datakey Heidi Shatterglass Datakey Berry Moon Skirt Dream of the Child Empress of Mars
    View more photos >
    A Taste of Interfictions 2
    • “My brother Pedro was born on the floor of our apartment. That was when we lived above the Good Foot. It was three-thirty on a Saturday morning when my mother pushed him out. Downstairs in the club, my father used to say, there was a band playing with twenty drummers, two basses, two guitars. Big horn section, lots of singers. It was some party down there. My mother said that my brother didn't cry once. He just hit the floor, put his ear against it, and started taking it all in right then. The band, the cheers from the crowd, the stomping feet against the club's floor. He never cried. But never slept either. Just listened and listened.”
      From: Interviews After the Revolution by Brian Francis Slattery
    • “Every day for three decades, the abandoned house strains against its galling anchors, hoping to pull free. It has waited thirty years for its pipes and pilings to finally decay so it can leave for Florida to find the Macek family. Nobody in its Milford neighborhood will likely miss the house or even notice its absence; it has hidden for decades behind overgrown bushes, weeds, and legends. When they talk about the house at all, the neighbors whisper about the child killer who lived there long ago with his family: a wife and five children who never knew their father kept his rotting playmate in the crawlspace until the police came. The house, however, knows the truth and wants to confess it, even if it has to crawl eight hundred miles.”
      From: Remembrance is Something Like a House by Will Ludwigsen
    • “My Obstetrician has four heads.
      She stands in front of me, arms crossed, tapping one foot.
      She only has the two feet.
      We are in Evanston, a socially-politically-ecologically aware suburb of Chicago, and she wears sensible shoes, expensive clogs and natural fibers to draw the eye away from the four heads.”
      From: Afterbirth by Stephanie Shaw
    • “My father's oldest brother was at the age when little boys fall in love with war. In the family's rush to get downstairs, no one noticed that he had brought his favorite hat into the basement, the one that superficially resembled the square czapka with the scarlet band of the Zandarmeria, the Polish Military Police. When the gun shots, the screams, and the smoke had cleared, the Germans discovered that their fugitive Polish soldier was just a ten year old boy.”
      From: Count Poniatowski and the Beautiful Chicken by Elizabeth Ziemska

    Click here for another excerpt