February is a Time for Only Certain Songs

Last month I visited Minneapolis for 4 days, to do a poetry reading at the Russian Museum of Art and hang out with my friend Drew. The trip was great--fun reading; good hangs with Drew and others--but it also contained a vaguely pensive foreboding of a kind, one that I couldn't put my finger on. Drew got a 24 hour food poisoning bug on Friday and spent 18 hours in bed, and during that time I meandered around Minneapolis by myself, which was nice--but also somewhat lonely. Even with all the cold sunshine and, throughout the day, strong hot coffee, there was a certain stasis of time and place in effect. As is the case when I visit any big metropolis that I don't know that well (or do), I was reminded of Olivia Laing's book The Lonely City.     

  

At the museum I was introduced to the works of Vladimir Dikarev, whose work I really liked. My own writing interests largely revolve around surrealism and absurdism, and Dikarev's work seemed to encapsulate my literary preoccupations visually.    

Fortunes from Minneapolis-based fortune cookies. I like "Venture not all in one boat." I used to skateboard a lot and my brand of trucks was/is VENTURE.

           JENNY HOLZER in the Walker Art Center Sculpture Garden (shoe mine). 

This was taken on Saturday. Drew had recovered and the Walker is within a stone's throw stone's throw of his house. Although I'd read quite a bit about it before, it was my first time visiting the Walker and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I tend to get easily overwhelmed in museums, trying to see and understand (or not) everything on display. There was a Jasper Johns exhibition which, being that I'm straight sideways about Johns, pleasantly surprised me--some optical illusion stuff that was cool--and a lot of great other works. Especially the short mail art exhibition that featured Ray Johnson, one of my top 3 favorite artists of all time.      

Famous Jenny Holzer installation that wasn't at the Walker but is always in my mind. Although as a writer I'm partial to Holzer's use of language in her works, I also like how the public display of them can potentially change the meaning.   

There is a light that never goes out. It's easy to blink and miss it, again and again.