this is yer brain on drugs

Finery, frippery, gee-gaws, gadgets and ephemera.
Quite a few things you've never seen in your life up to now.
Uncommon fanciful things.
Obscure objects of desire.

There is a critical mass of such stuff at our Red Hook store at the moment.

Behollllld:

Things from rural Pennsylvania farm country strewn about the front.

A rifle case. It probably had a .22 bolt action in it at one time. I made a rubberband assault rifle that fits perfectly inside.

Look. He's smiling.

All sorts o' stuff - jewelry, Pop Chart Lab posters, vintage shoes...

Ye Olde cardiac monitor.

A 52-year-old painted bamboo calendar. We have a selection of these with various artwork screened on them.

Decades old lighters. They all light on the first strike.

Jao in the house, sharing space with Patent medicine bottles from the 1800s

Kreepy Dolls. Always unique: Never the same doll twice.

Mmmmm, this death is cool and refreshing. It has the "Thinking man's filter and the Smoking man's taste"
No wait that's Viceroys, sorry.

Who doesn't like mugs? No one doesn't like mugs.

I got yer mudra right here, buddy!

Kegan Fisher's Cusp of Conflux in the gallery.

shapes

circles, squares, rectangles




surrender the fixation on words.
replace with fascination for shapes and horrible Photoshop filters

Celebrating Our Nation's Independence

In-store purchases this weekend in Red Hook get an extra bonus.






These vintage magazines are actually lightweight compared to the stuff your 10-year-old regularly views on the interwebs here. They also contain some hard-nosed political criticism - you know: to balance out the sleaziness. Much of the same issues we face today are echoed in the pages of these 70s thru 90s "smut" publications.

delicious retro fragments of the Historical Record.

...and a session of intuitive bodywork broke out

We've had Gay Charleston dance parties manifest themselves, so really nothing is unexpected at what some locals refer to as "that crazy place".

so, yeah, anything is possible.

This evening: the gallery of Kegan Fisher paintings somehow became a sacred space for Felecia's own version of muscle-release bodywork which seemed to help Mollie immensely (and me too: while sprawled on the floor taking these pictures, some pain/cluster thing in my shoulder gave way.)

That's how things happen here in Mollie and B's Happy fun land: flow, recognize, re-flow... always spotting the magic.

So if you are interested in private yoga and/or bodywork sessions, Felecia is available on Tuesdays and Wednesdays here at the Everbrite space, $85 per session.

contact her here:
immeindustries@gmail.com

Kegan Fisher's CUSP OF CONFLUX

CUSP OF CONFLUX
Kegan Fisher
paintings & drawings
June 25 - July 31

CUSP OF CONFLUX explores the moment before everything ends. It seeks to capture time as so incomparably quiet, so impossibly still, that we are unaware if movement persists.

Kegan Fisher's new collection of paintings and drawings is composed of works constructed around horizon lines, tight as skin stretched around sockets, full of memory and yesterday. Worlds are full of elemental structures that have long outlived their architects. Skies droop like wet cotton, with clouds hung up to dry.

Fisher's artwork encapsulates the point at which development has ceased, cities are empty, and we stand as voyeurs, witness to a silent future.

OPENING RECEPTION
sat. june 25 1-7pm

Everbrite Mercantile Co.
351 Van Brunt St.
Brooklyn, NY 11231
ebmerc.com

Mister Kamado the donabe

Yeah, that's my own lame "engrish" translation.

Dig: After bringing the donabe to a boil on a medium-high flame, and letting it cook for about 4 minutes, you shut the flame off.

Let it stand for 20 minutes, then it's eatin' time.

Yummy rice. fruffy n' delicious. The burned crunchy part at the bottom - that's my favorite part.

ARMAGEDDON APPROACHES!

...and it's all yer fault f*ckin greg.

with yer big gay penis art and it's grotesque depictions of giant rock hard throbbing members spewing stuff. Nice job, asshole.

you and yer cock art. YOU AND YER COCK ART. Now it's the End of the World and it's ALL YOUR FAULT.

you see what happens? You SEE What Happens!? It's all fun n' Games, Rainbows n' Unicorns, cocks n' jizz --- a big faggoty barrel of goddamm butt-luvvin laffs --- til someone gets hurt.

And in this case that "someone" is every-last-one-of-us purged from the craggy face of this sick sad world by the almighty Gawwd. May 21st, Judgement Day, is upon us thanks to WHORACLE.

you HAD to do it: honestly express your "feelings" and communicate yer "homo-love" lifestyle, making Yahweh angry.

Mo: "Oooooo, what are ya gonna do Saturday?"

Shmo: "I'm going to take a nice stroll around the park. Get some Sno Cones for the kids. Ride bikes maybe."

Mo: "Ohhhhh Sorrr-eee. That sounds pleasant, but you can't do that CUZ WE'RE ALL GONNA F*CKIN DIE!!!"

Thanks a lot, Greg.

dick.