Still Standing

by Mia Nutick based on Remembrance is Something Like a House by Will Ludwigsen

Ceramic pendant, gold wash on gold.

This piece will be auctioned off to benefit the Interstitial Arts Foundation at iafauctions.com

Tags: interfictions, interfictions2, willludwigsen, remembranceissomethinglikeahouse, jewelry, necklaces, mianutick
Uploaded: October 31, 2009
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    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.

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    A Taste of Interfictions 2
    • “Work dried up after the crash. My magazine folded, and the creditors came around demanding the office furniture and telephone and rent. They got one chair, a cancelled stamp, and a hundred and twelve copies of the second edition of Honeypot which didn't sell as well as the first. "And why should it?" Betsy asked. "Nobody's into poetry. Especially in the language of bees. They could be saying anything."”
      From: For the Love of Carrots by Kelly J. Cogswell
    • “Just before I dozed off to sleep last night, I had a vision. I saw, with my eyes closed, a room that was wallpapered with the most amazing scenery of a battle between angels and demons. It was brilliantly colorful and so amazingly detailed. I can still see the deep red of the evil horde, their barbed tails and bat wings – classic Madison Avenue horned demons, but playing for keeps, slaying angels with their tridents. The angels wore billowing white robes and, of course, had feathered wings in contrast to the slick rodent ones of the enemy. Halos, gleaming swords, harps to call the troops to charge, they poured out of the clouds, riding beams of light toward earth where the demons crawled out of cracks in the ground, smoking volcano craters, and holes in giant trees.”
      From: The War Between Heaven and Hell Wallpaper by Jeffrey Ford
    • “This is a story about a man who ties a woman to his bed. No, it's not what you think, he says. Please understand. But how can he explain? All those nights his wife turns into other things. Would anyone believe him?

      He should have known the first time he saw her, he thinks: her waves of dark hair spilling down her back, her torn jeans, her look of fuck you too, her scent of wet leaves, sweat, and dirt. It made him horny. What else can he say?”
      From: The Marriage by Nin Andrews
    • “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

    Click here for another excerpt

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