Nov 12
17
Pride of Dakota Holiday Showcase
Last night I began my Christmas shopping foray. After dinner we put on comfy shoes and headed for the Pride of Dakota Holiday Showcase. Pride of Dakota is a place to shop local–sort of, if local counts a whole state. The event is located at the Fargo Civic Center, continuing today (9-5) and tomorrow (11-4).
Ticket prices are nominal–$2 to get in, but if you bring your own green bag, the entry fee is just $1. Your ticket price gets you a Pride of Dakota tote bag (which I managed to fill) and a Passport. Get your passport stamped at three locations by visiting the Auditorium, Centennial Hall, and the Lower Level, and you might win $250 in Pride of Dakota Bucks. I’m kind of counting on being the winner.
I managed to get to all of the shopping rooms, not just shopping, but visiting with some fine folks who have been busy preparing to share their wares. Here’s but a small sample of the offerings, and perhaps some clues to my shopping stops.
Beautiful quilted pieces (from potholders to wall hangings) at Material Things
Sweets for the sweet (and even the not-so-sweet) from Sweet Dreams Confections. True confessions: I have a neat little box of Divinity, Chocolate Walnut, and Chocolate Amaretto.
One of my favorite stops was with the ranching storyteller, Ryan Taylor. Here he displays painting prints by Elizabeth Taylor–you might not have known she was an artist, author, fiddle player, and trapper! Liz, as she was known by family and friends, painted images of remembered days–just the kind of paintings I spent years studying for my dissertation, Preserving an Era and a Place: Memory Painters of the Plains and Prairies. I’ll be visiting more with Ryan about his mama’s work.
Don’t forget to stop at Whittier Decoys of North Dakota for your “swim tested working spear fishing decoys.” One fellow I stood next to at this display was having the hardest time selecting from the many offerings. He had been–reportedly–back to the table three times to check out the carvings in the past two hours.
Elegant pens carved from wood and horn at LHS’s Crafts.
Posted in North Dakota Places by .
Oct 12
15
Farmers’ Market at Dike East Park
Last week I had to buy a cabbage.
Nobody made me buy it; I just wanted it and we had none left in the garden.
I revel in the seasons we enjoy, but I’m not good at saying goodbye to any of them. Light freezes, wilted roses, and cooking already with pumpkin are the gentle reminders that summer is out, autumn is here, and before long the snow will fall and stay.
Another reminder comes today from the Farmers’ Market at Dike East Park, here in Fargo, as they tell us there are only 7 market days left for the 2012 season. They tout a list of “squashes, potatoes, onions, jams, jellies, and more,” but the picture (see below) they posted looks like some of the sad photos I’ve seen of late on my friends’ Facebook page, where they’ve brought in the last bits of bounty.
Still, as we move into winter weather and bring out our heavy coats, I’ll think of these days earlier this summer when I made my first trips to Dike East market.
These folks were pawing through the corn just like I would have been if I weren’t taking their pictures!
So, really, HOW MANY carrots are enough?
Oh, the tomatoes and cucumbers! For a time I thought we’d never run out.
I brought this stalk of brussel sprouts home. How well I remember snapping off each head, and the marvelous taste of them steamed and then stirred into butter and sour cream and salt and pepper. What, that’s not how you eat them? You should!
And the glorious dill.
As I sit and write, wearing a thermal long-sleeved shirt and thinking about the root crops still to come in from the garden, I pine just a little for the season now past.
To stay current with what’s happening at the Farmers’ Market at Dike East Park, check out their Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Farmers-Market-at-Dike-East-Park/87088323559
Posted in North Dakota Places by .
Oct 12
14
Rain Taxi Twin Cities Book Festival
Yesterday I drove 8 hours–4 to St. Paul, leaving the house at 5:20 a.m., and 4 more to get home. The drive was with good company–Emilee and Karl–and for good cause: exhibiting New Rivers Press books and authors at the 12th annual Rain Taxi Twin Cities Book Festival.
Emilee Ruhland and I prepare to meet and greet, not at all ashamed to attract customers with homemade oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies. Photo by Al Davis.
The very first book festival I ever attended was on the Capitol lawn in Austin, Texas, promoted by First Lady Laura Bush. It was one of those life-changing events. I met authors face-to-face, chatted with them as though we were equals, and then realized that, hey!–we are equals! Well, except for the part that they have published books. This might sound odd, but knowing that authors are often just regular folks with the distinction of being disciplined writers who work at their craft somehow opened vistas of possibility.
Insert: Gratuitous photo of Laura and me. (photo by White House photographer in Sims, North Dakota)
This year’s Rain Taxi Twin Cities Book Festival was relocated from its normal downtown spot to The Historic Progress Center at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds, my first-ever visit to this place outside my normal beaten path. In fact, there are about 320 acres with historic buildings and new bandstands to see. We got our bearings on Dan Patch Avenue, named for the Minnesota racing horse of world fame. Dan Patch, harnessed to a sulkie, never lost a race, and in 1906 even beat his own record! Check out this MN State Fair Walking Tour Brochure: http://visitmnhistory.org/sites/visitmnhistory.org.statefair/files/2012StateFair_WalkingTourBrochure.pdf
We met in the Historic Progress Center, with high vaulted ceilings, huge windows, and lots of space for the featured authors, panels & showcases, and about 100 press and author and bookselling exhibitors (really, it seemed like more!) Historic photo nabbed from http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&sa=X&biw=1394&bih=907&tbm=isch&tbnid=y54Bve3MZLFCXM:&imgrefurl=http://visitmnhistory.org/statefair/stops/5&docid=rZrsy6vtM0vY9M&imgurl=http://visitmnhistory.org/statefair/sites/visitmnhistory.org.statefair/files/imagecache/640x/MSFIMAGE2009_1709jjj.jpg&w=640&h=508&ei=CeV6UJjON6LD2QWm4oGwDQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=180&vpy=465&dur=1081&hovh=200&hovw=252&tx=153&ty=152&sig=109408778231766546925&page=1&tbnh=139&tbnw=171&start=0&ndsp=32&ved=1t:429,r:13,s:0,i:108
Since I was representing New Rivers Press (it’s where I work), I’ll show you some of our famous authors:
Here’s Tim Nolan, holding his newest collection of poetry with us, And Then. Obviously, the paparazzi were busy!
Had to take this photo twice–Tim was having such a good time, he forgot to hold up his book!
Nick Healy signed some copies of his award-winning collection of short stories, It Takes You Over, for these complete strangers. (Okay, really, they’re his mom and dad.)
Jamee Larson and Nick met each other for the first time this day, even though they worked together for about four months. Jamee, along with two other New Rivers Press-MSUM Certificate in Publishing students, co-edited and prepared marketing materials for It Takes You Over. Here, Jamee is picking up some compliments for the book team from Nick AND her autographed copy.
Our day wasn’t all work and no play. Emilee took a few moments to spin the wheel and win a prize. What was she hoping for? Not the free tickets to the Guthrie Theater (too far to get to from Fargo); she wanted a bookmark! Way to go, true reading fan.
‘Round and ’round and ’round it goes—where it stops, nobody . . . What?! Emilee won a bookmark!
We weren’t alone on the job: Karl Bakkum (left) and Alan Davis took turns behind the desk, although we do note that many of our cookies disappeared during their period of service.
The day wasn’t just about New Rivers Press. There were sessions to attend, like this one: QUEER MINNESOTA: THE STATE OF LGBT WRITING, where local authors across genre discussed the ups and downs of writing and publishing as an LGBT artist; moderated by Harvard University professor Stephen Burt. There were multiple session topics and featured authors, and at the end of the day we saw a long line of people waiting to hear from Cheryl Strayed, of WILD fame–author of a travel narrative/memoir. The historic venue was good for crowd traffic and table locations, but I’m afraid there were too many distractions in the session areas–noises from the exhibit floor, poor acoustics, and a glorious (albeit gray) view out the windows.
Although I didn’t get home until about 10:40 last night, it was a trip well worth the while. Rain Taxi is already planning on events for 2013, and I plan to be there, too.
Some related online sites of interest:
https://www.newriverspress.com
https://www.facebook.com/NewRiversPress?ref=ts&fref=ts
https://www.facebook.com/raintaxi
Posted in Places off the beaten track by .
Do you remember from your little-kid art classes the way a lump of clay feels in your hand? How it can be mashed and pulled and pressed and made to conform, and how it leaves a residue that dries in the whorls of your fingertips?
Most of us haven’t played with clay in years, but Shon squeezes clay on a daily basis. It is her work. It is her play. She keeps her clay in a chest freezer, set to the perfect temp for keeping the clay close to malleable. Pulling out a chunk, she warms it with her hands, mashing, pulling, pressing with her strong fingers until she’s molded it into the desired shape.
I met Shon Profit and her partner Stephen Girard when we were shopping for pottery at the Whitemud Clay Studio in Eastend, Saskatchewan. She is the artist, and he is the scientist and harvester that makes the clay work possible.
The moment I walked into the pottery shop I was drawn to this triptych: three equal-sized squares of blue and yellow-tan, textured to show windrows under the prairie sky. This is the same landscape that surrounded me all summer as we drove north from Texas to Oklahoma and Kansas and Nebraska and then again as we made our way up into Alberta and Saskatchewan. I was smitten with the colors and textures and even the uneven cut of the edges of this fired clay sample. I wanted to touch and to have. And that was even before I knew its story.
This mural-in-progress shows the same windrows I admired on the section of three tiles, but also the larger sky and some geese flying by. You have to tilt your head sideways to see the layout.
When I expressed interest in the three tiles, Shon described them as test pieces for a much larger project, which much to my delight, was spread out on a table in the next room. She was happy to share the masterpiece she and Stephen were making in their studio. Over their worktable lay 246 square tiles, much like the 3 that I found in the front entry, a piece-by-piece depiction of the Saskatchewan prairie landscape and sky. When all the tiles have been fired, the vibrant colors will pop out and each piece will be attached to the exterior wall of the Swift Current Museum.
Grid drawing to depict each of the tile segments and how they fit with the whole.
Shon holds up a stack of pages, each representing a single tile.
Shon shows us the back-up plans–a set of pages that illustrate the design for each individual tile. These pages are referred to just in case a tile, or all of the tiles, have to be replaced. Unfortunately, the back-up plan was called into action when the clay tiles failed to fire properly due to an unfortunate mix in the clay.
Each square is labeled according to the grid drawing. If a tile has to be replaced or reworked, Shon will refer to the grid–along with the back-up-plan pages–to make a new identical tile.
Sometimes Shon has to have a bit of distance from her work, so she climbs her ladder for a birds-eye view.
Before firing, each tile is flipped over (gently) so that Shon can remove slabs of the clay, making each piece just a little bit lighter than it would be otherwise. There are about 3000 pounds of clay in this project, so removing some here and there will make each tile easier to handle.
Stephen Girard, native of Eastend and the Frenchman River valley where he harvests–or “wins”–the clay from the hills. Here he holds special stones that he uses when firing clay to keep track of the temperatures.
None of this might be possible without the scientist behind the scenes. Stephen Girard, a potter in his own right (I bought a beautiful pitcher and six tumblers from him about 10 years ago.) harvests the clay himself, and then refines it by screening, blunging, and plugging, making the mud ready for shaping. The clay is pressed through a pug mill, which extrudes the air out of the clay and presses it into the tile-size thickness, ready for storing in the fridge. Stephen makes good use of his degree in chemistry, and when he’s not working on the technical and materials aspects of harvesting and refining, he produces the colors that will appear in the firing process.
Stephen’s kiln, made of local clay. The “floor” of the kiln can be rolled out so that clay pieces can be stacked, and then the whole floor is rolled back in before the firing starts.
I was amazed to learn that Stephen even made his own kiln! His friends in Moose Jaw provided Stephen with 1400 bricks, each painstakingly cleaned of the dirt from when they were used as paving stones, and then over a period of five months made into this fabulous, downdraft kiln for high temperature stoneware firing.
A close-up view of the kiln arch.
A peek at the rear of the kiln, where the hot air is vented outside.
Shon and Stephen gave a great tour, which they’re willing to do by appointment for their summer visitors at Whitemud Clay Studio in Eastend, SK. An appointment is a good idea if you want to see behind the scenes, but the shop is open 8am to 8pm, seven days a week from June through September, with fewer hours during the winter months. If you feel the same as I do about their work, the colors and texture of kiln-fired clay will catch your eye and tug at your heart.
Whitemud Clay Studio is located conveniently on Pottery Street!
Posted in Canada by .
As a 5th-grade teacher, I took as much delight in reading Stinky Stanley books to my students as they took in hearing the stories. Of course, there’s a lot to appeal to a 5th grader. Stinky Stanley was just a blob of protoplasm until he was struck by lightning, instantly becoming a clone of the last person to touch the blob, ten-year-old Sam. Sam was kind of a normal kid, but Stanley–who lots of people mistook for Sam–was anything but normal. He eats his own earwax (and yes, I’m afraid he eats his boogers, too), “burps like a horse and smells like a toxic waste dump.” Mostly Sam is able to keep Stinky Stanley a secret, but of course, not always.
Stinky Stanley, by Ann Hodgman, author of My Babysitter is a Vampire and two Stinky Stanley sequels.
In the third Stinky Stanley book, Stinky Stanley Superhero, Stanley is kidnapped by the evil scientist, Dr. Wermer, who wants to conduct a few experiments on the boy-clone. Wermer lives in sleek metal house. I found that house in Great Bend.
Lustron Home, Barton County Historical Museum, Great Bend, KS
Okay, so Dr. Wermer’s house was black and looked like a camera with its little windows. Not at all like this Lustron Home, which is the real deal. A metal home. In fact, according to the literature at the Barton County Historical Museum, in the 1940s Lustron was “The House America’s been Waiting For.”
Metal walls, can you imagine? When the house gets dirty, you just hose it down. No repainting, and since the trim and the awnings are all metal, too, clean-up is a breeze.
Returning World War II GIs had difficulty finding affordable housing, but post Depression and WWII had the veterans finding civilian jobs and going to college. Suddenly there was a demand for single family homes. The Lustron Home fit the bill.
Interior of Lustron Home
Notice the magnetic alphabet letters on the wall? Yep. Even the interior is metal–metal walls, metal built-in cabinets, metal vanity . . . it goes on and on. Keep your spray bottle of Fantastik on hand, and hand smears are gone in a flash. Oh, wait–I guess you’d need a bucket of sudsy Ivory Snow or your Old Dutch Cleanser (No Fantastik back then.).
Hanging photos was probably a little bit tricky, unless you use magnets.
As described in the Historical Society literature, the Lustron–”luster on steel”–Homes “were embraced, appreciated and understood by forward looking customers. These homes were made for people who built and flew the mighty super fortress–the B-29.”
Mass produced prefabricated porcelain enamel became part of post-war architectural history. A family could place its order for a house, and then just wait in excited anticipation for delivery of their two- or three-bedroom home.
Even though everything is metal, even the standard vanity dresses up nicely with splashes of color.
Many Lustron homes are still standing and occupied today. Eighteen houses and their owners are located in Great Bend, “The Lustron Home Capital of Kansas.” Dr. Wermer doesn’t live in any of them.
In addition to this lovely example of a Lustron Home (made possible with a generous gift from the Marion Weeks family of Hoisington), The Barton County Historical Museum collection and its interpretive materials are worth perusing. We had a great time moseying through the museum proper–with lots of terrific artifacts, including a super exhibit about iron lungs, the Luster Home, and even the St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, where my husband’s parents married. I recommend you take a look, too, and then take a ride on the old-fashioned gunny-sack swing. (I did. It was fun.)
Barton County Historical Society 85 South Highway 281, Post Office Box 1091 Great Bend, KS 67530 620.793.5125 www.bartoncountymuseum.org
Posted in Great Plains Places by .
Hunting up shipwrecks is fun to do, especially on New Zealand beaches where access is open and respect for the wreck expected.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Position_of_Taranaki.png
Following a brief note in our guidebook and not-very-helpful road signage, we located the wreck of the Zephyr on the North Island of NZ in Taranaki, the 10th largest populated town in NZ, named for the nearby volcanic Mount Taranaki. With the air somewhat misty and unsettled from a recent rain, I carefully stepped over rounded stones to capture images of the remains.
The Wreck of the Zephyr
Puddled water against the blue sky frames the Zephyr ruins. On the 11th of September 1864, this top-sail schooner, built of blue gums thirteen years earlier in Hobart Town, was set to unload a cargo of timber. The ship-hands moved some of the timber by raft the day before, but with three loads left, the endeavor was incomplete due to the high waters along shore. The next day, Sunday, a sudden squall from the north interrupted plans for continuing to send the timber ashore.
After the squall, according to the captain’s statement, “the sea fell dead calm.”
The calm was not reassuring; rather it was indication of danger. As evening neared, the captain’s barometer readings dropped and a new heavy swell entered from the northwest. The captain ordered that the anchors be dropped, but when an even heavier squall blew in, the schooner began to drag the anchors just 15 minutes after they’d been set. By 8:30pm the fate of the Zephyr was irreversible.
From the captain’s report: “There being not the slightest chance of saving the vessel, she being firmly embedded in the rocks, and every probability of her breaking up next tide, I felt it my duty to abandon her in order to save the lives of the crew. Accordingly ordered them into the boat, and afterwards followed myself.”
Although the Zephyr had maintained insurance for more than a year, it had expired three days before the grounding. On Monday, the vessel completely broke up. The pieces–including chains, cable, and rigging–sold for a total of £69 9s, 6d. The recoverable timber sold for £22 10s.
In another, less calamatous wreck on the same beach, we experienced our own grounding on the shore of Taranaki: The Wreck of the Commodore.
Our rented vessel: The Commodore, the Australian version of General Motor's 241-hp, 3.6-liter V-6 sedan with a four-speed automatic.
The Commodore was no more meant to be beached on the Taranaki than the Zephyr, but there we sat. The lack of signage and the free access led us to believe that we could drive along this beach as we had in other ports on the same voyage. Wrong. The Commodore, with about a 2-inch clearance and its teeny tires, does not respond the same as the 4-wheel-drive trucks we rented for outback driving Down Under or even my little Jeep to get around North Dakota. As you can see I avoided the puddle, but I sunk the car into a quicksand pit of sandy gloop.
No matter how much we scooped out the wet sand, sweeping it away with our travel guide books, we could not budge the car. Instead it sank up to the axle. That’s when we learned about sand fleas. They didn’t bother us as we scouted around the ruins, but once we were high-centered and desperate, they delighted in pestering and biting. Hard.
With no choices left and no assistance nearby, we walked out to the main road and hiked to a not-so-nearby house for help. The story ends well for us, with a chap giving us a ride in his 4WD and then dragging loose the Commodore. We’re not so sure the story ended well for him–he wasn’t where he was supposed to be when his wife squeezed us into her pickup truck and went looking for him on our behalf. But there’s not room here for the story of a third wreck . . .
The captain’s statement may be found here:
“The Wreck of the Schooner Zephyr,” Taranaki Herald, 17 September 1864, found at paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/ where it is repeated in the Nelson Examiner and New Zealand Chronicle, 22 Mahuru 1864, p. 2
Posted in New Zealand Places by .
Apr 12
24
Model Bakery, Linton, ND
When we married–in our backyard under the apple tree–we served our guests kuchen. My husband-to-be and I worked to perfect our recipe, finally (after many taste-tests) ending up with a thin, lightly sweet crust and a custard decorated with apricots and juneberries.
Serving up wedding kuchen, July 28, 2007.
This past weekend, on a new kuchen hunt, we visited the Model Bakery, owned and operated for 36 years by Mary and her husband. After making my way through racks of baking pans and various doughs, I met Mary in the back room, pressing out the kuchen and filling pie tins with custard and apple topping.
I caught Mary in the kitchen, ladling apple filling and pouring out kuchen custard, while her husband presses the crust. (So hard to resist poking some of that dough!)
A firm touch with the right hand and a gentle spin with the left.
It's not all sweet stuff at the Model Bakery.
Making our purchases (and drooling not a little).
According to the bakery clock, it was time for an afternoon snack. We made our purchase of cottage cheese kuchen and an apple blachinda (to share, because we’re not gluttons).
Our visit to the Model Bakery was deliberate. Mary will provide kuchen, caramel rolls, cinnamon rolls, apricot & cherry & lemon blachindas, and ham & kraut bierschkis for breakfast to all those who are registered for the 19th Annual Preservation North Dakota Historic Preservation Conference: Prairie Places Festival, to be held mostly in Wishek, ND, May 18-20, 2012. Hope to see you there!
We’ll save you something sweet.
Link to Model Bakery address: http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/231/1106526/restaurant/North-Dakota/Model-Bakery-Linton
Link to Preservation North Dakota conference registration site: http://www.prairieplaces.org/
Posted in North Dakota Places by .
Several times a year, I can be found out at the Hutmacher Farm in Dunn County, North Dakota. Since 2006, this farmstead has been under the care of Preservation North Dakota, and in recent years service-learning students from North Dakota State University have been adding sweat equity to the preservation project. While we’ve had a variety of volunteers over the years from many states (Oklahoma, Washington, Louisiana, Georgia, and many more), the majority of our volunteers are from NDSU. Wherever they come from, we’re just glad they’ve arrived!
Orientation at St. Edwards Cemetery
Before we get to work, we have an orientation to the place. Here Dr. Tom Isern takes the volunteers on a cemetery walk to introduce them to the Hutmacher family. In the distance, straight up from the fencepost, the original Hutmacher homestead ruins are barely visible.
Meeting inside the granary
Since the morning was still chilly, the orientation continued inside the protective walls of the Hutmacher granary, one of five buildings still extant on the farm site. Here’s a perfect photo to show the construction of the roof interior. A single ridgepole runs the length of the building, north to south. Laid up on top of the ridgepole are rafters, all of which rest upon rock and mud walls, built more than a foot thick. Across the rafters, past volunteers laid brush–sometimes plum but only once did we use bullberry (ouch!)–carefully pushing the brush tight to weave a rooftop. On top of the brush are layers of flax, mud, and a sprinkling of scoria. The rafter and wires hanging horizontally were used by the Hutmacher family to string up hams and sausage.
Our weekend goal was to build up the wall of the lean-to chicken house, attached to the garage, and begin throwing on rafters.
Packing up mortar for laying down rock
Here you can see the chicken-house wall, which last summer had to be taken down a few rows. Too much deterioration in the wall meant it had to be reconstructed, as shown here. A labor of love with mud mixed and spread by hand.
Mixing sand, clay, and water
Just like the Hutmacher family, we have to haul in our own water for all purposes.
Lunch time! In the background, the Hutmacher house with its restored walls and roof is visible.
All this hard work in the windy outdoors makes for some hearty appetites.
From our picnic spot inside the granary, we have a gorgeous view of western North Dakota landscape.
The weather was kinder our second day out. Smiles more prevalent, short sleeves and pulled-down hoods the order of the day.
Such a beautiful sight. The east wall (facing the viewer) and the north wall have been built up to specs, and we’ve begun to lay the rafters across the lean-to. The chicken house relied on the east wall of the garage for support, although in later years this lean-to place was used to store coal. A previous work party labored to dig out the coal remains.
The stunning view from the interior of the chicken house, standing in the doorway and looking north. Although there’s still plenty of work to do next time, our weekend mission is a success.
Posted in North Dakota Places by .
Apr 12
7
“Please Do Not Feed the Wombats”
Whatever you do, do NOT feed the wombats.
The wombats are on a special diet today at the Cleland Wildlife Park, Adelaide, South Australia, hence the sign requesting that they not be fed. But mostly you must stay clear of wombats because they bite.
The first wombat I ever saw.
This was not at all what I expected. Sort of a scruffly, shambling along creature, the wombat made no noise to alarm us, but he is all business. This southern hairy-nosed wombat is a powerfully built, burrowing marsupial who comes out at dusk to feed on native grasses–or during the day to see who’s wandered into the neighborhood. He had no fear of us, but then he is protected by law. There are little more than 100 wombats of the hairy-nose variety (southern and northern) in existence, owing to the early 1900s drought and death by dingo.
Aborigines feasted on common wombats, more plentiful than the hairy-nosed ones, but farmers and graziers found them to be just a pest. Farmers here gripe about gopher holes; imagine the size of a wombat burrow! Weighing from 70-90 pounds, wombats make big holes in the ground (and terrible messes of cars on the highway).
Maybe I shouldn’t have been sitting there, dangling my sandaled foot over the side, but I wanted to see this amazing creature from as close as possible. He has fine hairs around his nose that help stem water loss, but he never came close enough for me to tickle them, so I don’t know if they’re like my dog’s whiskers. Even though he looked rather pig-like, his coat (I’ve read) is soft and silky. I didn’t feed him, nor did I touch.
It didn’t take Jack (male wombats are jacks) long to figure out I was just paparazzi, so he made his way back to some carrots hidden in the shade (where he also had a friend–Jill). As I studied his girth, and equated him with swine, I wondered if he might be tasty.
http://zactopia.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/why-you-should-give-a-square-shit-about-wombats/
Wombats have square poop. Why? So it won’t roll off of rocks. Which is very helpful if you have poor eyesight but a keen sense of smell, and if you otherwise would not be able to find your way home.
Seems like a good place to end this Home and Away story.
Apr 12
1
Liberate Those Cups!
Quick! Get yourself to the Plains Art Museum today! April 1 is the last day to view the Misfit Cup Liberation Project by artist Michael J. Strand.
Plains Art Museum, Fargo, ND
Our travels don’t have to take us far to find something to satisfy curiosity. Yesterday (at long last) I made it over to the Strand exhibit, just one day before it starts to be packed up for a voyage to China. Yes, pottery will soon be on its way to China–and Norway and even more countries before they make their ways back to Fargo.
I first met artist Michael J. Strand a few months ago, when several of us were invited to lunch to talk about creative collaborations. Michael is way ahead of all of us. His Misfit Cup Liberation Project begins with crafting beautiful, hand-thrown cups. He trades them for a “misfit” cup, but in return for his marvelous cup, you have to give up a story. As a historian and literary editor (and coffee drinker), I am in seventh heaven to muse my way through this exhibit.
A long view of the exhibit, with a close-up sample of one of the hand-thrown cups traded for the storied cups
The cups are full of character, little chips, dings, matched sets, oddities. But the stories, oh the stories . . . Here is a small sample.
One unmentionable trade-in cup kept under wraps.
Michael J. Strand, photo opp
By good fortune (maybe because it was my birthday), as my husband and I were exiting the exhibit, the artist was entering. He graciously allowed me an impromptu photo, and answered my questions about the exhibit. When I asked him which traded-in cup was his favorite, he quickly replied, The Ex-Con, and directed me straight over to see it. He is having lunch with the contributor this week.
Ex-Con (etched into the cup is a man's name and his prison identification number)
When guests give up a cup and a story, they choose their cup–which was originally housed in the place their old cup now sits. Guests sign a picture of the cup they took. It was a marvelous idea to post the cup-shots; otherwise these works of art would disappear totally from our view, perhaps until another chance to make a trade.
Do not despair if you can’t catch the misfit cups. After the multi-nation tour, Michael will do something new with the cups that will capture our interest and curiosity. He doesn’t know just what that is yet, but he says that is all part of his research–studying the stories, “scrutinizing the function of art and craft in contemporary society.”
According to the gallery, we can expect more collaborative projects as an impulse of Engage U–”a cross-disciplinary group of art activists, students, and others seeking to develop innovative and thought-provoking art projects.” Congratulations to Michael J. Strand for getting Engage U in the public eye.
Funding organizations: Engage U, North Dakota State University, Members of Plains Art Museum, The McKnight Foundation, The Minnesota State Arts Board, the North Dakota Council on the Arts, and the cities of Fargo, Moorhead, and West Fargo through The Arts Partnership
Posted in North Dakota by .
