hammer-galleries

The Times, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, March 9, 1879

During the Regency, Victorian and Edwardian eras it was considered a very big slight if a recognized artist’s paintings were “skied” (placed above the line of vision) or “floored” (placed below the line of vision) in a gallery exhibit. While usually there was a practical reason for skying a painting, it was also a common way for the committee to show favoritism. 

One man, in 1910, who had seen his painting placed in a favorable spot and was content, returned the next day - varnishing day - and found it skyed in another room. He left in a huff and came back with a fishing pole and attempted to knock the painting down and destroy it. When security kicked him out, he came back in disguise and shot the painting four times. 

Here are a couple illustrations showing what flooring and skying looked like:

Flooring could be much worse if the room or the painting were smaller, with people having to bend and crane to view. Here’s a modern example of “floored” paintings:

For @falling-into-vacancies who had this brilliant idea about how the mind link between Tony and Bucky might subconsciously affect Bucky in his opinions on technology and certain people once he recovers from the brainwashing. I couldn’t resist. (All the luck with your assignment by the way!)


He Bucky frowns at the flat smartphone that looks oddly tiny in his metal hand. Fragile too, though it probably isn’t by normal human standards. Of course he isn’t a normal human anymore, is he?

It has taken a while–seven pointed comments, four in-depth conversations and seventy-six jokes–for that to sink in, to understand that Hydra hasn’t just turned him into a monster in the figurative sense. He has been turned into a dragon of all things. Half the time he Bucky is still convinced he is hallucinating.

A dragon. Just like Stevie. Would you look at that, apparently wishes do come true after all. And is the amount of bitterness contained in that thought really normal, like his sometimes-shrink Wilson insists?

“Why a phone?” he asks gruffly. It takes conscious effort to remember that he has to say the words out loud. Seems like such an unnecessary complication too.

Somewhere behind him Wilson snorts. He wonders whether the man knows that the phone is hard enough to kill him, should he decide to twist around and throw it at his head at full strength. Remembers that Bucky doesn’t think like that. Reminds himself that he is Bucky.

Steve is giving him a look that’s a cross between amusement and exasperation. “So the next time I’m ten minutes late from grocery shopping you don’t storm the supermarket in full battle gear,” he says.

Bucky scowls. He knows Steve is still far too happy about the fact that he’d come to his rescue–apparently a sign of the ‘old Buck’–to process that he had stormed a fucking supermarket, fully armed and in battle mentality. Sometimes he wonders who the crazy one between the two of them really is.

He stares down at the phone in his hand again. It’s a cheap one. The touch screen’s responsiveness is less than optimal, the battery doesn’t last half as long as the newest StarkPhone, screen quality is acceptable but not remarkable and the storage room is a nightmare. 

The knowledge filters so quickly and precisely through his mind that it takes a scandalised, “Bucky!” from Rog Steve for him to realise he has crushed the phone in his metal palm.

Bucky stares at the hopelessly twisted and cracked pieces expressionlessly for a long moment, before he slowly looks up to meet Steve’s confused gaze. 

“I don’t like it.”


It’s been two months since he’s first moved in with Steve and Sam and while Bucky is aware that he’s getting better, there is still much he isn’t sure about. The never silent voice in his head for one. The nature of Steve’s and Sam’s relationship for another.

The TV is running, but it hasn’t escaped his attention that Sam is more occupied with laughing at one of Steve’s stupid jokes, a fact that instantly makes him suspicious. Steve’s jokes are terrible. Yet there Sam is, laughing loudly, eyes twinkling.

Bucky is about to very purposefully ruin the mood when a comment from the TV makes him turn back around to watch a stocky, fair-haired man with thick-rimmed glasses and a terribly nasal voice that instantly grants on Bucky’s nerves blathering on and on. The guy’s–Justin Hammer, CEO of Hammer Industries, asshole–aura of self-importance is almost suffocating, even though he must be miles away. 

Bucky is so distracted by his instant dislike for the man, it takes him a moment to catch up with the conversation and realise Hammer is listing reasons for why the Iron Man tech is outdated and poses a needlessly risk to civilians, as proven by the two avoidable deaths in the latest fight against-

He doesn’t hear the rest. It’s kind of hard to, what with the way he has slammed his metal hand–and really, it’s starting to grow on him–straight through the smug bastard’s fucking face with an enraged snarl.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice filters through his fury after a moment. 

When Bucky manages to turn his head, it is to find both Steve and Sam warily watching him in clear preparation of another Winter Soldier episode. He blinks. Tries to shrug, which isn’t as easy as it sounds, what with Sam’s precious TV dangling on his arm. Awkwardly tries to put the intense wave of dislike, disgust, hatred he can’t explain into proper words.

“I really don’t like him.”

“I’ll say,” Sam will mutter after a couple of seconds. Followed by “You owe me another TV, Rogers.”

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150 images of the Fashion magazine shoot added to the photo gallery!

 I’ve had a photo gallery on the blog before, but I deleted it since I wasn’t uploading to it. I’ve been wanting to pick it up again, so here we are. From now on, I’ll be adding more HQ outtakes to the photo gallery, so check back from time to time for more picture.