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Dec 19, 2011 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Claire Mulberry

Sundays. Sinatra. And the siren.

Preparing Sunday dinner with the wonder, BB.
Los Angeles, California. Come fly with me – DK

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Nov 27, 2011 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Implode (To Drink the Great Lady)

Though his taste was world renown, she was uncertain when he chose the 2009 Pingus, a Spanish vintage, to pair with the caviar urchin. The supple texture of the roe demanded the voracity of a crisp, Premier crus, whilst the initial burst of flavour required the acidity found along the northern slopes of Champagne. And though he conceded that the selection was indeed, unconventional, its complexity, he offered, was bold enough to withstand the profundity of the roe, yet sophisticated enough to console the bare palate, once such an amorous affair had come to its end.

Claire Mulberry considered the presentation of the sommelier, with careful note. The Austrian savant, celebrated for his palate, was well aware of her culinary pedigree, and it would be a feat, he surmised, were he able to persuade the astute chef to his viticultural guidance. And just as a slight smile had begun to develop upon his lips, it was her husband, the builder of dreams, who would request a bottle of the 1998 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame Rosé, as he arrived at the table, within the French eatery.

And though the breadth of his smile would not be realised, he could take refuge in the knowledge that the architect was a connoisseur of the rarest sort, as acknowledged in his second concession of the day:

“Excellent choice, Mr. Mulberry.”

Implode. Part LXXIII – DK

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Oct 31, 2011 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Implode (The Counsel of Dreams)

It was all very familiar.
Like the air at 44° North, 6° East.
He drew another determined breath deep into his lungs.

And just as he prepared to forgo his search for truth, she personified herself in amber Chanel, balanced delicately on the heels of Louboutin.

Benjamin parted with thoughts of rebirth and lush tropical enclosures and followed her gait, as she continued her conversation with the director of the specialized gallery.

The de Gris Laurent heir, his noir Gucci pea coat saturated by the somber sky, arose from the stone rest.

And uttered the only prayer he knew.


She turned, to find him soaked from the efforts of the rain.

“Ben!” Lucy began.

He smiled, whilst she turned toward her colleague, to request a moment alone with the nomadic stranger. And yet, just as she returned to bestow the affections of her attention upon him, there he was, before her.

“Ben,” the desirable curator offered, in a soft whisper. “What are you doing here?”

And for a moment, he decided to forgo air. To inhale her.

“Ben?” she continued.

He blinked, preventing the rain from obscuring his vision.

“I was told Saint Lawrence is here. I came to see him.”

“Lawrence of Rome!” Lucy beamed.

Benjamin observed, careful to absorb every moment. As her capillaries exploded, causing her cheeks to flush red, he was reminded of sunsets on the Mediterranean, sailing with Max Mulberry and Etienne Rousseau.

Meanwhile, Lucy was pleased to be discussing her passion with an individual outside the realm of work.

And one of like mind.

“Well, there’s the stained glass here,” she began. “It’s a beautiful work, attributed to Canterbury, Kent, located in the Early Gothic Hall,” she said. “There’s also an Austrian-Salzburg work at the museum on Fifth. It’s part of an altarpiece from the late 15th century,” she continued.

Benjamin maintained his gaze.

“Though, I admit. I am partial to the stained window.”

And though he wanted to convey his affection for her, there were no words.

“It’s absolutely glorious at midday,” she mused.

Still, when your dream speaks to you, there is an obligation to respond, as Benjamin did, whilst observing the parting of her mouth,

And concurred.

“When the light is brilliant.”

Implode. Part LXXII – DK

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Sep 30, 2011 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Implode (Through the Pane of Saint Lawrence)


The truth is, he had exceptional views… the world over.



The unpublished two-storey penthouse, at The Mandarin Oriental, Tokyo.



The extensive palatial villa, well-appointed by his debonair friend, secluded within the whimsical bluffs of Saint-Tropez.

And yet, on this day, he sat within the quartered solace of medieval abbeys, appropriated from the faithful villages of France, now solemnly restructured above the weathered granite of the Hudson River. Though his manner and philosophical core were far removed from those of the Order of Saint Benedict, his devotion was no less pious than the principled celibacy of his religious predecessors, whose solemn monks would occupy the same stone slab, in devout contemplation, twelve centuries earlier.

Amongst hart’s tongues and quince trees, the de Gris Laurent heir would seek an audience with ethereal sages, though try as he may, would only encounter the persistent shadow of his current self. As the rain continued its baptismal descent over his person, Benjamin would adjust the wool coverage upon his neck, provided by the collar of his Gucci pea coat. Though the Masala chai had cooled some while ago, his thoughts remained on the Indian subcontinent, where he suffered the furies of love and sought in vain for the Triple Gem. Despite a return, devoid of its treasures, his lachrymose frame maintained the posture of hope, supplicated upon the antiquated bench.

And though he was not a religious man, the veritable aura of his current Gothic enclosure evoked a moment of humility, and the quiet hope of a tangible peace.

Implode. Part LXXI – DK

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Aug 31, 2011 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments


Because even a building, can be honest.

The virtuous facade of an 18th century Venetian abode.
Venice, Italy. Truth – DK

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    With regard to <em>Implode</em>, certain details, locations, occurences, et al. may not resonate along your cerebral palate if read out of context. For this reason, it is recommended following the episodes in chronological order, as they appear, which requires a bit of time travel.

    The first experience occurs in January 2010 with <a href="">The Birth of Max Mulberry</a>.

    Thank you.

    For allowing me to be apart of you,
    If only for a moment.

    - DK