Whiskey takes the edge off and cheers me. I didn’t drink until I was 46…last year. (I’d have more friends if I’d learned to drink earlier). No, no I’m not drinking alone. I’ve got my HousePets right here. The Chinchilla wants a sip. The Goosegūss mirror is going to pass though. He’s feeling reflective.

The Chinchilla (Felt) In the Pink
The Manga Mug was blue
And rode the GooseGūss table right through the living room

We have, for decades now,
built dreams to walk into
for public assembly,
antidotes to reality:

A pudgy lovechild of a ‘49 Hudson and a tavern;
A nightclub windblown by Prospero’s tempest;
A restaurant breaching the fourth wall of a cartoon;
A hotel with the long lines of post pandemic flappers –
One coaxing a sense of otherness from the reanimated
spirits of foundry ruins,
And another crystalizing  a pastoral landscape in Doug fir-lined copper.

 Holding reality at bay
requires fine-tuned continuity,
So,
we handcraft every element populating these fantasies,
harmonics to enrich the melodies,
a voluptuous chair, a smiling table, a windblown chandelier, a beer mug with a tail and legs… 
lest the spell be broken…

Over time these elements,
enablers of escape,
themselves escaped

First becoming useful at the studio, then making themselves at home after participating in a party, and some insinuating themselves into houses of friends and  family and a few  insistent fans.

With public assembly now diminished,
they comfort us, winking at us from across the room,
recalling togetherness.

As a houseguest in Kyoto I was beguiled by the exquisite garden around which the rooms revolved. Mariko, my samurai-choreographer host, explained that the garden recalled the of robust wilderness at the cities edge…

In that spirit we would like to introduce these strays from our walk-in dreams, companions for uncertain times, our first litter of HousePets.

Now available for adoption.