JUNE 23, 2020

We smoothed our hair with the aid of the street lamp and the mirror of our mother’s bicycle, and laid it on the grass. We walked the path, up the dry rotted stairs. We felt the porch give under each step, thinking of the toads that lived there. Entering the large two story farmhouse, we closed the door behind us. Looking left at the brass and walnut captain’s clock we read: 10:45 PM. On a jaunty angle, leaning on the banister, we cupped our mouth with one hand, and called up the stairs. In a voice kind and relaxed: “Dad?” The instant we finished the word, we knew it was something like the wrong incantation. The house went black. A void. We transcended panic; for a moment, paralyzed. We reached our arm back without turning, feeling slowly for the door. Touching only a featureless wallpapered surface; we turned frantically and wildly felt for what had been there only a few moments ago. We slid along searching this way for at least 100 feet straight — with no interruption of wall and floor; knowing the house to be only 40 feet wide at a generous measure. Not in any way able to process the situation, we slid down the wall and sat, gathering our knees to our chest. Our panic recomposed to motionless listening, like prey. After poised like this for what could have been an hour in the featureless dark, we started to hear a faint tapping. Our mounting panic subsided when we recognized the footsteps of our dog Sam. It was her, “Oh Sam, oh Sam! Good girl! I love you. Where are we Sam? Never leave me. I love you.” We cried hot tears into her warm fur neck. She laid her head onto our cross-legged lap, and breathed calmly. We pet her absently and familiarly whilst trying to discern something in the immeasurable darkness; muttering to ourself and her, “Where are we Sam? How are we going to leave here?” In our preoccupied relief we hadn’t realized that our situation had deteriorated. An awful comprehension started to emerge; our warm companion felt strange, thinner — cooler to the touch. Groping to determine the nature of this mutation; we discerned what seemed to be a hairy, perfectly disembodied male arm in the sleeve of a fur coat. With revulsion and terror we threw the horrible truncation into the emptiness. We waited for the thud of it’s landing; it never sounded.


The work of designer Callum Abbott has a spirit, exuberant, yet slightly agitated — with something like a prismatic aversion to piousness. It’s not quite a sense of humor (which would be boring and pat) maybe just a general levity towards seriousness. He seems to be constantly upending graphic idioms — whipping them, polishing them, warping them. Suffice it to say, we like it very much. 🖖

Andrey Ilyaskin

Naemi Gustavsson

Nina M Gibbes











Follow Selections:


Edition Haus am Gern
CHF 25

Atlas des Régions

Lily Clark




An offering of pieces and projects from around the web.

Annete Weintraub, Realms
Recorder: The Marion Stokes Project
Degas at the Opera
Hackers and Painters
Amy Lockhart, Walk for Walk


Of both the Tarot and the I Ching, we asked the following: For the coming week, what is the best advice for the engaged and sincere person?

This week we drew the “Eight of Pentacles” (in other systems known as the “Eight of Disks” or the “Eight of Coins”). This card centers around the subject of working, working as a center of life. Ultimately it intimates that whatever “work” is to your life, this is a time to get it right. If it is important to you that you lead in your occupation, take the reigns. If work is killing you, try for serious adjustments. If you are not disciplined with your labor, find loving self control. Work is essential in large form to most all lives — the door this week is open to take it seriously.
        Since beginning these divinations we have only rolled hexagrams containing a change; that is, resulting in two hexagrams. This week is the first time where there is no change. This means that how we enter the week is how we will exit the week. Our single hexagram is #18 “Decay, Work on What has Been Spoiled.” “We must first know the causes of corruption before we can do away with them… so that a relapse may be avoided.” There is an additional pair of lines that underscores this notion: “Before the starting point, three days” and “after the starting point, three days.” Perhaps carve out serious time this week to take personal stock of any stagnation that is interfering with your progress generally speaking. After you have thoroughly identified the obfuscating putrescence, take another three days to cleanse your pathway(s) of it.
        Our extraction: It is not optimal to find the energy to work, it is better that your love of the work gives you the energy to complete it. Another way: take your boat completely out of the water, scrape off the barnacles, repaint it and return to the sea. Find joyful refresh with your new quickness.