The rugs that I’d sent out for cleaning last week were due for delivery at noon Friday. After several botched scheduling attempts (neither his fault nor mine), Larry showed up at around 4 p.m. with my rugs.

Larry looks like a rug delivery guy: low-hanging pants, faded sweatshirt, baseball cap, substantial paunch. The look is deceptive. Larry is a rug delivery artist.

Before placing the Persian onto my dining room floor, he asked if I’d intended for the Dan Mason painting on the wall to be centered there. “It…well, yes…,” I stammered. “Hmph,” he replied, critically surveying the painting.

His eyes darted from corner to corner of the space. Hoping to be useful, I tugged at the carpet pad. “Uh-uh-uh,” Larry said. “Let me do that.” Tap dancing over the pad, he put it squarely in place. I watched him place the heavy log of carpet at the narrow end of the room, lifting and dropping repeatedly until it was centered and straight. Then he rolled it out with his hands, and I knew better than to interfere.  read more »

Everywhere I go around the world, I seek out art and never fail to find some that I love. But like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, I always seem to find that “there’s no place like home.” In other words, the Twin Cities is an awesome place for art.

Last night I visited three galleries and it has left my mind awhirl in a kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, materials and meaningful messages. First stop: Rogue Buddha Gallery on 13th Street just off of University, where I picked up the Craig Bell painting I purchased when the show opened a month ago. Now a new show is up (artist Jon Langford) and I like it—in particular, the digital image of Hank Williams, gussied up through techiques that make his smile fairly jump off the plywood to which it is applied and I can almost hear the “Howdy, Ma’am” that would tumble from the country singer’s lips. Better put a sticker on that one. He’s mine.

Next, a short walk down the block to Gallery 13, and I’m sorry, did we just enter Wonderland? My friend Jill and I agreed that “Tin Man” sculptor Lester Hoikka has created a fabulous pop-up book for grown-ups that you can actually walk around in. Inspired by tin toys of the ’40s and ’50s, and influenced by themes you’d see during Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) in Mexico and Carnival (Mardi Gras) in New Orleans and points south of the equator, Lester’s sheet metal imagery makes you feel as if you’ve been dropped onto a stage on which a colorful play about life and death is in progress. The motion, the drama, the humor, the fun—it’s all there! I hope you see it, but hurry. Lester’s work is in demand, and so the show runs one week only.  read more »