Editorial
If you love something, let it go, as they say. This applies to people, of course, though pets as well, to an extent, even opportunities, or items. It is against our nature, in a way, to let things go. There are ways to cope, of course. Close your eyes, pretend it never had been in the first place. What the mind no longer considers the heart cannot hurt. What the eyes cannot see could possibly be only misplaced. Waiting for you, perhaps, at your doorstep, at your aunt’s house, propped against the clock as if counting the minutes until you reunite once more. One may fear opening the door, knowing in the back of one’s mind that the fantasy will not become reality.
It is, of course, ridiculous to think that the world revolves around one’s needs. It is equally ridiculous to think that no part of the world revolves around them. It is simply preposterous to think there is no care for a particular thing, or a person, a feeling, or a position. Where there exists possibility there exists want, and care. People have a lot of care, after all, and the need to put it somewhere, to utilize it. To cherish, to protect, to raise and see grow. To teach, and to learn.
To love something, truly, is to be able to let it go, to give hold to that primal instinct, and to trust that, if it is meant to be, you shall be reunited once again.
Art of London
Artwork of Idelia Lockwood
In a special edition today we bring you the paintings of one artist going by the pseudonym Galvatyr (do press onto the name, will you?).
Hotshot Blackburn and The Tree of Liberty 
Poor Edward
News of Art, Art of News
Mahogany Magician’s Act Goes Awry, Audience Evacuated
During last Saturday’s performance of an illusionist (whose name we shall omit, for the sake of discretion) there had been quite the unexpected and unfortunate twist. Whilst most of the show went by without a hitch, the Illusionist able to pull wonders out of their sleeves and bewilder minds with ease, the last act, consisting of mirrors, deadly pendulums, and audience interaction, went horridly wrong.
It started quite usual – a few volunteers, the contraption had been set, the Illusionist strapped to a chair. The mirrors were prepared, the performer reciting his speech, instructing the brave volunteers. The illusion began, and then, in a short moment, everything went horribly wrong. One of the volunteers, just a little too close to their mirror, stood there, missing their cue. In a short moment a maelstrom of misfortune swept through the stage. The control of pendulums was lost almost immediately, the doves fluttered into the air, the Illusionist was decapitated. The audience, fortunately, was ushered towards the exits in haste and none of the seated folk were injured. Besides the Illusionist, who is now in the process of recovery, the volunteers and assistants were all only injured. The one who had caused this accident, however, had disappeared, though our sources say they had been seen entering the Labyrinth of Tigers accompanied by several cats.
This short surge of excitement has, of course, not impeded the good spirits of the audience nor the Hall management, and all shows shall continue as normal. Investigations of the causes are in progress.
Ask Mother Goose
Dear Mother Goose,
How to contain one’s feelings?
Brooding
Dear Brooding,
Yelling at the zee always helps.
gooseygazette.art.blog 