Wednesday, February 18, 2009


These ancient narrow streets, once dark with mad legend, now crawling alive below twisted, cursive wrought iron. Looking down into chaos and falling through the long hall back to memory of her, sitting late at the bar, saying, how could I miss it, the smorgasbord of pleasure. I spoke words of leaving to her smile and her eyes told me that my words were lies. Below my feet are spirits of many worlds and faces, dragged up each time to meet in this weird pageant like the drunken contents of lost sepulchers spilled together onto littered streets. The howling of tears and song, of laughter and of minds lost, of lovers found, to be forgotten. Wine and spirits pour like blood at some fantastic mass communion, the wafer of our very flesh consumed on altars of desire. All ghosts are holy here and vestments, glorious and vain, tatter in the pulling hands of the blessed and the damned, falling together into bliss or to burn in eternal flame. The call rises to fever pitch and turning back, I step inside to find my feet upon the stairs. Treading down deep into dark, I see a light that lies ahead. Following my walking feet, the iron gate is all that holds the street back from this inner sanctum of sanity and calm repose. Swinging open the bars and stepping out into the crowd, immediately I am lost and swept away by relentless current, feet no longer touching ground, laughter ripped from out my mouth so loudly, yet I cannot hear it nor can I recall my name or where I was before this time of twitching orgiastic dance or why those balconies look safely down with distant faces like I once knew, when just below them hunger reigns and I have fed myself, at last, into the mouth of the beast. - Lord David

Sunday, February 15, 2009


There was a beautiful woman, refined in every way. She kept a gallery in which she hung the heads and faces of strange anecdotal creatures. She would light a candle beneath them from time to time and they would amuse with wonderous songs, stories and rhymes. But after a time each would grow weary and reflect back on distant memories. Their tears would extinguish the waxy flame with a sputter and she would leave them there in the dark, locking the door behind her until they once again forgot to remember. - Lord David

Friday, February 13, 2009


Andrew Arrasmith, 27; Oil on canvas. Originally from Texas, currently resides in Savannah, GA where he recently graduated from the Savannah College of Art and Design. His work has been showcased in Los Angeles and has had several successful shows in Savannah. The Skull Club is Andrew's first New Orleans venue. Allison M. Termine; Oil on canvas. Born in 1978, Bronx, NYC. Fine Art oil painter for over 14 years. BFA; Parsons School of Design. Living and exhibiting in New Orleans since 2007. Shows include Barristers Gallery, X/O Studios, L'Art Noir, Babylon Lexicon New Orleans Book Fair & Side Arm Gallery. Amie Davis; Hand colored black & white photographs. "Through hand coloring with Marshall photo oils and pencils in select areas, I control, highlight, enhance and create a mood within the image, while the blacks and whites remain the pure natural tones of the print." Working and exhibiting in New Orleans since 1985. Shows include X/O Studios, L'Art Noir, Contemporary Arts Center & Alternative Media Art Expo. Amie has received over 97 awards, including Best of Shows, since 1985. Isabelle Rene Peltier; Pen and marker on paper. Isabelle Peltier's recent work on paper appropriates images from magazine, news paper and book sources, in pen and marker. Isabelle has shown extensively in New York, including: 187 in the Bowery, Commons, No. 34 Stuyvesant St., Rosenburg Gallery, Team Awesome Presents: 'I Drink When I'm Thirsty', and a group show at Old Tower Video and Tower Books Building. The Skull Club is her debut show in New Orleans. Lord David; Victorian Shadow Boxes, with assemblages & found objects. Born feet first with teeth, stolen by Gypsies & raised by Pirates. Captured during the War with the Giant Rats of Sumatra, during which he escaped by drawing a window-seat third-class bus ticket to Cleveland on a cereal box top, and jumped ship in New Orleans. Lord David has been living and exhibiting in New Orleans for about 15 years. Exhibits and showings include Barristers Gallery, Poets Gallery, Hi Ho Lounge, & Schiros Upstairs Gallery.