1629 c/o Omar De Col

Ernesto the handsome Spanish soldier returns
victorious from the Battle of St Kitts and attempts to
have sex with Isabella the beautiful Spanish aristocrat
but is thwarted by women’s fashion circa 1629

“I’m really hot right now Ernesto!”

“O dios Isabella, you are so beautiful, I want you really hard right now!”

“Take me Ernesto, take me!”

Ernesto unties Isabella’s overcoat.

Ernesto kisses Isabella’s cheek.

Ernesto removes Isabella’s hat.

Ernesto pulls off Isabella’s gloves.

Isabella kisses Ernesto’s mouth.

Ernesto begins to unbutton Isabella’s dress.

“Oh be careful Ernesto…”

Ernesto unbuttons Isabella’s dress more slowly.

Ernesto is still unbuttoning Isabella’s dress.

Ernesto removes Isabella’s dress.

Isabella kisses Ernesto on the neck.

Ernesto removes Isabella’s shoes.

Ernesto unclasps Isabella’s stockings.

Each clasp snaps loudly.

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

Ernesto sees Isabella’s bare leg.

Ernesto has an erection.

Ernesto begins to untie Isabella’s corset.

Ernesto is still untying Isabella’s corset.

“Hurry up Ernesto! Dios mio!”

Ernesto removes Isabella’s corset.

Ernesto sees Isabella’s breasts.

Ernesto has a serious erection.

Isabella is naked.

Ernesto kisses Isabella’s neck.

Ernesto keeps kissing downwards.

Ernesto reaches Isabella’s belly button and feels something metallic on his chin.

Ernesto looks down and realises Isabella is wearing a chastity belt.

"O dios! Isabella! What the heck is this?! Jesus."

"Oh... Just stick it in."

Ernesto looks at the chastity belt.

"No way, it looks like a bear trap."

Isabella leans over and grabs Ernesto's face in both her hands.

Isabella looks into Ernesto's eyes and grins.

"Well, it's not like you're a bear..."

Ernesto interprets this as a crack at the size of his penis.

Ernesto storms out of the room shouting "YOU'RE A REAL WISEGUY ISABELLA!"

1628 c/o Madison Langston

Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis
et Sanguinis in Animalibus

Those of us living
said, landmarks/ligatures. We said,
history. W called it: the record of how
it moved in us. W said he measured it.
Called it mechanical.

They said his project was informational
and emotional.

W said, The experiment
contained only blood.

Of how our insides are
organized. An abundance of
systems. A warm bath. Or
a thorax when breathing.

The skin being
performed. Or just the motion of it.

The way we contained it. Spinning.
A chronicle of events. A story.
Inventory. An

anatomical structure or
another hollow structure.

Blood and lymph. A loop.

1627 c/o Alexander J. Allison

Zurbaran, Christ on the Cross

Today,
in an alcove behind the altar,
I saw Jesus.

I mean it was obviously him;
there was no mistaking that.

Against the darkness,
his head lolled deeply into his shoulder,
in a lazy, calm way.

Though still pimping a cross,
he wasn’t suffering:
he looked like a handsome fucker,
all luminous and ‘out-there’,
rare and enticing, like a shiny Pokémon card.
His skin was sculpted,
rippled with carpentry’s defined muscles.

Jesus seemed very still.
I could imagine him waking up and announcing,
‘I’m back, bitches’
in an indignant, American accent
that would still manage to ring with a cloying purity.

I stayed for a while, expecting correspondence,
hoping to be complicit in his comeback:
humanity’s finalé,
our top ten hits.

Though only a painting,
I had believed him.
I don’t feel tricked at all.

1626 c/o Ben Brooks

Würzburg

I really think you are a witch and I am scared that you will eat me, my wife said.
I wont eat you, I said.
She turned on her side, facing away from me, and pretended to snore. It sounded like she was birthing foals through her mouth.
I sat up.
You don't believe me, I said.
I'm sorry, she said.
And she fell asleep.

I couldn't sleep. I smoked a cigarette and sent the same text message to everyone on my phone (except my wife, her mother, my dentist, and Shanghai Palace). The message said:

Have you ever suspected me of being a witch?
If yes, why?

Replies dripped in slowly through the night. In between each one I played Snake 2 but never once managed to climb above my lowest high score. My fingers were upset. They wanted to sleep. Some of the replies I received were:

hi falk. wer u been? want 2 get a beer on sat?

dont think ur a witch m8

idk

yh in the woods that time there wos purple ravins on ur sholders

gay

haha u freak go 2 bed

I didnt reply to the replies. I neatly copied them out onto my wife's back in red pen.

In the morning my wife was in the kitchen making risotto. My favourite. She had woken up early and gone out to pick mushrooms in the wood. When I came downstairs she pushed one into my mouth and kissed me on the head.

Sit down, she said. It will be ready in a minute.

We ate calmly.
I smoked two cigarettes while my wife cleared it away.

At eleven, two men in duffel coats knocked at our door. My wife let them in. We all sat around the kitchen table sorting out paperwork. There was a lot of paperwork. I signed everything and didn't make a fuss. My wife was very proud. She squeezed my thigh several times.

At one, we all ate tiny, triangular blueberry sandwiches.

At two, my wife jumped on my back, kissed my ears, and watched the men lead me away.

They led me to a balding croft where I burned for six thousand days. Fireworks broke out of my eyes. I cried a little. I disappeared the way I had been taught to. It was abrupt.

1625 c/o Buster Jones

Vocklamarkt

1. I am an Austrian farmer. Here I am.

2. We cannot believe exactly what you want. It is true we haven’t tried but then again we cannot believe exactly anything. Here we all are then and we are each of us unable to believe. Now then. What now.

3. We have been wondering what other countries are and why they are where they are. People come. I dreamed I crawled across a border. My jerkin is covered in mud still. Imagine if they killed us. We are going to be killed.

4. 16 rabbis are walking in a line toward my farm to trample my peas. Rabbis. I don’t want to die and I don’t want to attack the rabbis. I don’t want them to have wives who cry when the rabbis get thrown in jail for destroying my property. And who told them to be rabbis. And where did they all find rabbi’s wives.

5. They’ve built a bigger cliff to hold a heavier cross to look down on the water. The earth is stuffed with birds. We are Austrian farmers so what would we care. Maybe.

6. I keep dreaming of fishermen sat around that fountain with their lines resting on the surface. I think it means something. Their faces are each covered in gold leaf or lace and there is a fat dark body sunk quiet in the water. I really think it might mean something.

7. What is the bottom of mountain. Imagine it and I can imagine something deeper. What is the most distant memory. We are it. We are being killed soon enough either together or alone. We have found this out. We are Austrian pea farmers.

8. Domes are covering the buildings until people don’t pray any more. Look. I am not trying to rebel. I want to grow a million peas. Is that a lot.

9. How many colours are there. I can think of six colours of house, and three colours of fruit. I remember seeing two colours of sky. What then. Are colours about to come out of me. Is this like sea-sickness. I’ve been dreaming about my neck covered in rope. I think it means something.

10. The cathedral was underground so they carved the earth and made a mountain and here we are with our arms out looking down at the water. This isn’t my torch and I didn’t light it and I don’t want you to kill me.

11. I saw a woman in the town square carrying four fawns tied to a stick. I threw a pea-plant at her. A small pea-plant. There she goes running away. A waste of a farmer’s last pea-plant.

12. I should have put more breadcrumbs on the meat my wife spat out. Now I’m being killed. I should have done things for my wife. I should have done everything. I should have done more of everything for people. Farmer’s tears are on my face.

13. Remember Turkish horses running towards us. We have grown tired. I have had my last breakfast. I have missed my chance to lie down in front of a horse. I won’t be killed by a Turk. I won’t be killed by a horse. Did I mention I’m crying.

14. I can’t even imagine leaves. Where would colour even fit on our trees. Where would leaves go apart from beneath the earth. Or a pile of them burying a clifftop cross.

15. One of us says “Inside of a war there is a war”. The rest of us imagine the largest crow. The largest eagle. There is no middle size of creature that is flying above us here now in the last moments.

16. We’ve grown tired. So. Now. There he goes. There she goes, here we come. Here we go. Here they come. There we go. Here he comes. Here he comes. There he goes.

1624 c/o Nichole Ortiz

Peaceful Ruler from the Bowl

The Laughing Cavalier (1624) is a famous painting by the Dutch Golden age and Baroque artist Frans Hals. The top right of the portrait is inscribed with "Æ'TA SVÆ 26/A°1624" in Latin, meaning the portrait was painted when the sitter was 26, and in the year 1624. The identity of the man is unknown.

Haarlem The Neterlands, 1624

His face was as red as the wine in his glass. Lord Fritz Van Der Komp was a chatty young fellow and quite animated. He had not sat still the entire time I painted him. He told many amazing and outrageous stories and would continually get up to roam the room grabbing objects and telling of how he acquired each of them from his travels. Yet he never took his eyes off me, as if to make sure I was caught on his every word but still working for my pay. I, in turn, felt frustrated and on several occasions politely asked for him to sit, but he continued to perform.

He had requested that I paint him at his home, which is unheard of, for my sitters always travel to me, but Lord Fritz Van Der Komp insisted I travel to him, and I now see why. He loved to put on a show. His home was his stage, his possessions were his props, and I was his audience, there to capture every moment.

"More wine, dear sir Hals!" the young Lord roared as he clumsily filled my glass then dropped heavily back into his chair smacking together his wine-stained lips and twisting the ends of his mustache.

He was a boisterous presence, dressed in the finest silk and lace, which impressed me very much. Conveying the beauty of these fabrics was no challenge to me, it was his face, his personality that became a struggle. In fact it was proving quite difficult to capture his status and nobility when he behaved like nothing more than a drunken fool.

"Thank you, Lord." I said as I lifted my glass and took a sip. I dipped my brush once again and gazed at the space on my canvas where the Lord’s face should be. If I were to paint what I really saw, I'm sure the Lord would not approve the next morning after the wine had worn off.

"This has taken quite longer than I imagined, Sir Hals." The Lord slurred, pushing back his large black hat that had fallen over his brow.

"I perhaps am enchanting you so much with my tales that you can not concentrate on your work? Please do tell me if I am too much." He laughed loudly, hiccupped, then quickly covered his mouth, unknowingly spilling a bit of wine from his overflowing glass onto the beautiful rug at his feet. If you wish to know more about how he came across such a lovely rug, I'm certain he would love to tell you the fascinating tale, just as he told me...

I needed to capture that proud nobleman who was hidden under his flustered, drunken features. So I chose my words wisely. "You are most intriguing, my Lord!" I said honestly.

Lord Fritz Van Der Komp placed his glass on the table beside him with a pleased expression. He was ready to let me speak, as long as the subject was about him.

"Your fascinating life and your majesty… Well, if only all the people of Haarlem could be so lucky as I to be in your beautiful home and hear your fantastic tales. I wish for all to experience the wonder you've shown me this day. I wish to capture that for all to see!"

I watched him as I spoke and almost laughed out loud at the expression growing on his face. His chest raised as he breathed deep and a slight grin (No! An arrogant smirk!) moved across his lips. I could not be sure, but I swear he gave me a coy wink. His blotchy face lifted and at once he sat straight and proud. That’s it! If only I thought to boost his ego sooner, I would have been done hours ago.