Lots of signals cross in 1990 Seattle. One broadcasts from the head of giant robot who sits like a statue at the base of the space needle. She also has a dance club and music venue inside her. Dot, the radio stations's rocker DJ, gets unexpectedly pregnant right when the giant night club is hitting its stride. Then the colossal robot gets up to move and crushes the hand of a right-wing anti-abortionist. That's when the signals really get crossed. Stay tuned for a, like, totally generational trip through history in a city on the move. Familiar faces surface in a small town suffering the growing pains of politics and technological advances. Forces collide, a robot battle ensues, and the unborn child growing inside a rock star's belly is along for the ride.
Visual artist Mike Leavitt's sixth short story, "Tin Utero" is a letter to a lost love that no longer exists. Through the stratification and politicization of rapid development, Leavitt also pays homage to Seattle's independent spirit. The vision for an over-sized "monument to mothers" is a enduring tribute to the quixotic mysteries of a hometown's undeniably odd lore.
