gallery of the maps


個展《インビジブル リバーシブル》

Solo exhibition “Invisible reversible”
August 13 - 27, 2017 ※ Fri Saturday and Sunday open only
Opening hours: 13: 00-19: 00
Location: map Maebashi civic gallery (2-12-7, Chiyoda cho, Maebashi, Gunma Prefecture 371-0022)

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 6

“It’s f-f-freezing!” Claire stuttered, holding herself tight inside her fluffy down coat.

“Aye, ‘tis.” Jamie smiled, hugging Claire close. “But beautiful.” Wrapped as they were in thick scarves and warm hats, no one looked twice at the couple—particularly at Jamie, who usually stood out like a sore thumb.

Frost and snow hung thick on the branches, the pathways cleared of ice. Holiday decorations were up, and everything was ablaze with twinkle lights. The Christmas markets were brimming with Santas, snowmen, and candy cane crafts.

Hyde Park Winter Wonderland teemed with Londoners and tourists. They walked hand in hand—or mitten in glove—swinging, giddy with the knowledge of each other. It was only the last week of November, but Christmas was already on display.

“Christmas with Uncle Lamb wasn’t always traditional,” Claire said, gazing in true wonder at the holiday explosion around her. “I’ve lived here forever and I’d never been to this market.”

“At Lallybroch, we usually do Hogmanay – sort of a New Year’s celebration.” Jamie stood behind Claire, holding her close, as they both admired a Christmas village miniature. “Verra traditional.”


“Thank you Duke’s! Good night!” 

The Clan trooped offstage, glistening with the sweat of their efforts and the heat of the spotlights. Jamie had found Claire in the wings.

“Jamie, that was amazing!” Claire exclaimed, impulsively throwing her arms around his broad shoulders clad in his signature jacket. Jamie, heat radiating like a furnace, grabber her by the waist and swung her around.

“Did ye like it?” he whispered, words muffled by her hair.

It was easier this way, to tell him without having to look into the sapphire depths. “Of course I did! I can’t believe you would—that anyone would write a song. For me.”


“It was my favorite place, whenever my uncle brought us to the city. Frank’s job as historian would occasionally bring him here too, but mostly libraries,” Claire said lightly.

They climbed the steps to the entrance of the British Museum, arms linked. The lighting threw the shadows of the columns onto the square, at the late hour.

“I think my parents brought me here when I was a bairn. Jenny and I, we were young.”

“Do you have more siblings?” 

“Nay. My mother, Ellen, she died when I was twelve. And my newborn brother with her.” Jamie swallowed hard, and shook his head at the memory. “My father followed when I was 23, from a stroke.” He ran his hands through his fiery thatch. “His name was Brian.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She squeezed his arm in sympathy, knowing in their shared experiences that no more words were necessary between them.

Jamie got their passes, smiling widely for the museum employee who recognized him. He paused to grab a map of the galleries, but Claire immediately headed to the left for the elevators. “Come on!”

“We only have an hour! Fridays close at 8:30. What would ye like to see, Sassenach?” Besides Lady Jane, now she had new nicknames.

“Follow me!” She grinned and stepped inside the elevator; pushing the button for the third floor, Jamie slipped in next to her.

“What is it, mo nighean donn?” He nuzzled her neck briefly and she pulled away, tickled.

“The Roman Empire. Then the Greek rooms. They were remarkable healers, for their time.”


“Of course it was fer ye! Who else, mo nighean donn?” Jamie’s smile was blinding; he felt breathless from the high of the performance and the feel of Claire in his arms.

“You’ve called me that before. What does it mean?” 

“Come wi’ me.” Jamie looked around, and seeing no one, took Claire’s hand and led her towards the back exit.

They stepped out into the cold London night, their breath visible in the light from a single halogen lamp above the door. They found themselves in an alley that reeked of refuse, but Claire scarcely noticed. Sliding his arms around her again, Jamie’s fingers traced patterns on the back of her jacket. Claire wished it was her skin, and felt her cheeks flame again.


“Is it Chinese?” 

“I think they call it Mandarin.”

“So the sword was stolen.”

“Yes. Shhh.” Claire pulled a packet of Cadbury English toffee from her purse and shoved it into Jamie’s hands. “Watch the movie.” The tiny art-house theater was almost empty, but she knew how annoying they were being.

Jamie opened the bag and took a piece, offering another to Claire. She ate it absent-mindedly, focused on the film. The assassin was revealed when she felt a hand resting lightly on her knee.

Claire looked down, then at Jamie; his expression was perfectly neutral, eyes on the screen. She crossed her right leg over the left, and saw Jamie’s mouth twitch.

“Watch the movie yerself, Sassenach. Ye’ll miss the subtitles.”

“Can’t think you’re paying much attention either.” She took Jamie’s hand in her own, twining her fingers with his.


“I thought of the phrase from the moment I saw ye. Mo nighean donn means ‘my brown-haired lass’ in the Gaelic.” 

“Brown is rather dull, I’ve always thought.” Claire’s heart pounded disjointedly; she was sure he would be able to hear it if he moved any closer. 

“Not at all. There’s flecks of dark gold and a bit of red too, like water ruffles over a rock in a stream.” Jamie tangled a hand in the unruly curls. Claire closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle touch. 

She reached up and tentatively fingered the wavy locks, vivid fire in the light. There was amber and roan, orange and auburn. She had never seen anything like it. 

“Claire,” Jamie whispered, bringing his forehead against hers.


“’Tis only 5 days ‘til Christmas, Claire. I’d like to ask ye to come to Lallybroch with me.” Jamie’s eyes were eager, hopeful.

“Scotland? Really?” Claire put down her fork, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

“Where we first met.” The smile he gave her was only hers. She blushed and sipped her wine.

“I’d have to work overtime, to ask for some days off. Also—” she paused shyly. 

“What is it?” Jamie took her hand encouragingly. 

“I’d like to turn in applications for medical school in January. If I get accepted, then I’ll have to start studying again.”

“That’s wonderful, Sassenach! I’m so proud of ye!” Jamie kissed her hand, holding it tightly. He signaled the waiter for another bottle.

“It will mean I will probably see less of you than I do now.” Claire sighed.

Jamie nodded. “We start recording a new album in the New Year as well. In Edinburgh, the label’s recording studio.” He poured out another glass, and clinked it against Claire’s. “But we’ll talk every day, mo nighean donn. I promise.” He took her hand again. “We’ll both be busy, and time will fly by.” 

A quiet but distinct noise caught their attention. The click and whirr of a camera from a corner of the restaurant. Claire turned casually, and spotted the culprit a few tables away.

“I think they’re photographing us, Jamie.” Claire looked down and tried to extricate her hand from his.

“I dinna care. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Jamie leaned in and gave each of her knuckles a soft kiss. “On the contrary.”

“And we’re doing what, exactly?” Claire smiled, tapping his foot under the table with her heels.

“I’m having dinner. On a date. With my girlfriend.” Jamie smiled. “I want the whole world to know.”


Jamie’s lips brushed softly against hers, warm and gentle. He pressed a hand hesitantly against her back to bring her closer.

Claire rose on her toes, her arms around him in response. He tasted of salt and whiskey and promises and she wanted it all.

“Your heart is worth it,” Jamie murmured in the dark.

Orange or apple juice? Ink or crayon? Sketchbook doodles or art galleries? Getting lost or reading a map? Open windows or blinds shut? Roller coasters or bumping cars? 3D movie or outdoor cinema? Swimming or tanning?

Signs Aesthetics (according to my interpretation of the signs)
  • Aries: fire, roses, lollies, athletic wear, bold red
  • Taurus: designer brands, light brown, coffee, fairy lights
  • Gemini: suburbia, old electronics, mirrors, dull yellow
  • Cancer: open fields, stars, silver, pastel, white sand
  • Leo: gold, versailles, crowns, thick hair
  • Virgo: lace, microscopes, teacups, roman/greek architecture
  • Libra: retro milkshake bars, light pink, pools and flowers
  • Scorpio: stickers, dark green, earphones, art galleries
  • Sagittarius: cameras, journals, maps, brown, road trips
  • Capricorn: coats, lipstick, blouses, old telephones
  • Aquarius: neon lights, rainbows, roller skates, orange
  • Pisces: glitter, oceans, watercolours, pills

I mentioned in a previous post that I have been collecting license plates. It casually started as the prior owners of the first home we bought left many of their old Michigan vehicle plates still nailed to the back wall of the one-car detached garage in the backyard. Our family business was construction equipment and one of the many hats I wore was maintaining the fleet of plated vehicles and accumulated many more as they were eventually sold. Many of the plates I do have are Michigan ones from years gone back as the state would change the plate color from year to year before it was fashionable to have interesting graphics on them before simply saying ‘The Great Lakes State.’

I have been scratching my head on what to do with them when it comes time to downsize into the tiny house. The plates, until recent, were displayed on the garage walls, alphabetically arranged to create a border a few inches below the edge of the ceiling. They now fill a couple of milk crates.

I was on vacation 10+ years ago in Park City, Utah and first saw a license plate map for sale in an art gallery. I immediately wanted one for myself but couldn’t justify the art gallery price they wanted. Roll the clock forward to now and I have decided to make one myself.

So here’s my plea to you, my followers, should you have any old plates that you could spare and might care to donate to this cause. Please understand that this project is for my own use and not at all something that is going to made to be sold at any point, that it will be a prominent decorative feature in the tiny house.

Here is a list of the state plates that I still need to locate:

New Jersey

New Mexico - Have a plate but the state name is abbreviated to N.M. Are all their plates this way?

North Carolina
North Dakota
Rhode Island
South Carolina

Please message me if you would like to contribute a plate!

King of Soliloquies

Jordan Fisher x Reader
Words: 1043

also known as “MOMA is wonderful Mackenzy, you’re right.”

i just made myself super emo wow. 

anywhooo, it’s Philip Hamilton’s birthday today! or yesterday. time zones are confusing. I had planned on writing a Philip imagine because I do have a few requested, but i went against that and wrote this instead. I mean, Jordan is Philip sooooo

also, WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I WAS SPELLING PHILIP WRONG?? I HAD TO GO BACK AND CHANGE ALL OF MY IMAGINES FROM “PHILLIP” TO “PHILIP”! I WAS EMBARRASSED… but not as embarrasesed as when i was trying to send my friend a video at work today and i made eye contact with a guy walking past the shop.


I am currently working on a Mutuals part two, so yay for the two people that requested that! but as for now, i’m going to sleep because i just worked a seven hour shift and let me tell you, I am exhausted.

i think that’s all I have to say. well, except for the fact that requests are of course, open and that you can find the link to my masterlist below.

goodnight wonderful people!



On two show days, you and Jordan often found yourselves bored out of your minds. The time between the two was often filled with nothing, and you both didn’t function well without something to do.  So today, the two of you had decided to visit MOMA, possibly the best art museum in New York.

Your friend Mandy, who played Angelica in Hamilton, had recommended to the two of you that a visit was required. And so, you were on your way once you were both out of costume.

“You ready for an adventure?” Jordan asked, taking your hand. You smiled, nodding rapidly.

“Definitely. It’ll be a nice break from all of the eighteenth century surroundings. Some modern art might do us well,” You stated, following Jordan out of the Richard Rodgers Theatre and beginning your walk to the gallery.

Most of the journey involved small talk and a few awkward moments of eye contact, but you were glad for the silence. You were both exhausted after the first show, and sometimes a little silence made everything better.

When you entered the gallery, Jordan was quick to head to the counter. You followed hesitantly, glaring at him when he had already paid by the time you had arrived next to him. “Fisher!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

Jordan chuckled, passing you your ticket as you both headed into the gallery. “You deserve a treat. You work so hard as a swing and as a person. I mean, yesterday you went to the Women’s March and still managed to make it to work. I commend you on your efforts.”

“Trying to impress me with the big words, are we?” You teased, nudging him playfully. Jordan rolled his eyes.

“Of course. Because a human being such as yourself deserves the highest level of English, and possibly a soliloquy…”

“You want to speak your thoughts when by yourself or despite other hearers?” You replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no. Probably not. But it sounded like a pretty word and I wanted to impress you,” Jordan replied, blushing slightly.

“I believe a serenade would be the more appropriate term, plus I’m sure I would enjoy it more. I enjoy most things that come out of your mouth,” You stated.

“Even this?” Jordan poked his tongue out, smirking slightly. You glared, turning your attention the map of the gallery.

“I’m not leaving the gallery until we see The Starry Night, so let’s head there first and then if we have time, we can look at other things.”

“But what if I have a favourite painting that I want to spend all our time at?” Jordan whined, pouting as you dragged him into the elevator.

“You don’t. You told me yourself you had no interest in art and that the only reason you were coming was because you didn’t want to be bored alone.”

“That, and Mandy recommended it, so it has to be good. I mean, that woman is a living goddess. Can you believe that we get to be in the same musical as her? Look at everything she’s achieved, look at how big her range is, look at-“

“We get it! You enjoy fangirling over Mandy Gonzalez! I mean, so do I! But can’t we talk about something else? Something more exciting?” You interrupting, letting out a huff as the elevator doors opened.

“Well, we can talk about the picture I posted a little while ago. You see, it was a key and I haven’t really told that many people the meaning. You’d be sworn to secrecy if I told you,” Jordan said, smirking.

You raised your eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Jordan nodded, closing the elevator doors and whispering in your ear. You gasped, smiling. “That’s exciting. I can’t wait,” You said, opening the elevator doors and stepping out again.

Jordan pouted more, following behind. “That was the most non-genuine reaction I’ve ever heard. C’mon, there are hundreds of fans that would die to hear that secret! There’s even a group chat I’ve heard of called Jonathan Fletcher and they obsess over it. Sometimes I read their messages and…”

And once again, the silence returned as you stared lovingly at your favourite painting. Jordan moved in next to you, taking your hand and turning his attention to you.

“It’s incredible,” You whispered, a large smile spreading across your face.

Jordan stayed silent for a moment, falling head over heels at the sight of you. He looked down at your hand in his, a smile replacing the pout that had previously been possessing his mouth.

You raised an eyebrow, turning to Jordan whose gaze was still fixed on your hand. “Jordan William Fisher, are you even paying any attention to me? Or the art?” You asked, frowning slightly. You had hoped that Jordan would have the same interest in Van Gogh that you did, but he had proved you wrong.

“That shouldn’t be taking up a primary space in this gallery,” Jordan stated quietly, breaking his silence. You frowned.

“What do you mean? The Starry Night is one of Van Gogh’s most iconic works. It’s famous worldwide and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever laid eyes o-“

“The reason that it shouldn’t be taking up a primary space in this gallery, is because I already have the most beautiful piece of art standing right next to me, holding my hand. The most incredible and breathtaking piece of art, (Y/N), is you.”

And just like that, the silence overtook again as you hugged Jordan tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, smiling wide.

“See? I’m good at soliloquies.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from the hug. “We were having the perfect moment there, and you decided to ruin it. Good on you,” You said, punching his shoulder awkwardly.

Jordan smiled. “Well, I think that we should leave. I know a place where the policy on touching the masterpieces is non-existent…”

“Your pick up line are a lot smoother than your stubble. Congratulations. Now, maybe when we get back to the Richard Rodgers, we can work on your soliloquies.”

He chuckled quietly, taking your hand once again. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”