The Art of KCF: Ritual Walk

                May 30, 2020

            The Art of KCF: Ritual Walk

              Ritual Walk
    Vaimo and I met up for a socially distance date with her sister Jennifer on her birthday in early May. We were headed to the closest Minnesota Costco from our home, an hour and a half drive out. It was a two hour drive from Jen’s spot on The Range, so a good “halfway mark” for a meetup. For those of us who live in rural areas, driving a couple of hours to a particular store is a reality you grow to enjoy. Given how much time we spend at home together now, this felt like quite the adventure. We finally got our hands on toilet paper, we had been using two squares each for certain jobs. Rationing, one might say. The Costco-size bucket of Peanut M&Ms has been the surprising pandemic buy neither of us knew we needed. Though, our relationship with sugar is definitely in full blown addiction and a clear attempt at coping with our changing lives. In addition to stocking up on our pantry needs (hello fifty pound bag of all-purpose flour), we were reacquainted with the stress of leaving the house under these times. We now have what we call, our “Covid-Pack.” It houses our tube of Clorox wipes, and two clean masks. The hand sanitizer had already found it’s home on my car’s driver’s-side door last summer when I drove cross-country from Minnesota to New York, camping along the way with my newly adopted chihuahua Archie. It's joined by a bottle of bug spray, two kinds of sunscreen, a collapsable water dish for the dog, and oddly a small bottle of balsamic vinaigrette (for salads on the go). I guess, one could say, I like to be prepared.
    Anyways, we met up with Jennifer at Crow Wing State Park outside of Brainerd, MN after our Costco run. Mostly keeping six feet away from each other, though veering closer to each other occasionally. Nothing really prepares you for navigating one’s first disease pandemic, so I had my usual bandana around my neck which I pulled up when we passed people on the trail and couldn’t keep six feet distance. Jennifer was the first person we’d really hung out with more than a passing hello or in a transaction situation with a cashier at the grocery store in six weeks. At this point since the shutdown we had left the house fewer than ten times. All of the excursions were food, beverage, or art-making related for me. For Vaimo, a couple of trips to the pharmacy, her office in town for essential business, and twice to the car dealer to get our truck in good working order before next year’s snowfall. Like I said, I like to be prepared, and thankfully so does Vaimo. The day was nice. The first day that I can recall that gave the sense that Summer was on its way. We walked in the woods and along the path where the Crow Wing and Mississippi rivers meet. Even though I would never complain about my scenery (we live on a gorgeous environmental lake and have an amazing property full of native prairie grasses) it felt glorious to look at different trees and different waters.
    Our sister Jennifer has been doing this walking ritual for years - where she tries to hit all of the Minnesota State Parks in one calendar year. On the walk, we learned that almost all the state parks have a Hiking Club trail that goes throughout the park never exceeding two miles. There’s even a passport club with rewards when you log all the passwords you find along the way. There’s something unique about an experiential learning that expands beyond hearing about something. She had told us all about this before. For us, walking that trail at the Crow Wing State Park, combined with the realization that this pandemic is going to be with us for some time, finally clicked something. So, Vaimo and I decided, as things open up a bit we are going to finally complete our long-stated goal of visiting every Minnesota State Park this year. We want to walk somewhere new, to (more safely) get out of the house. We also live in a lake home that people really like coming to in the summer…given the ChicFinn Cottage is also experiencing the pandemic, it makes sense to use this summer to take time to explore since we may not be able to host folks as safely.* I guess we will take it one park at a time. For now, Vaimo and I have hit three off the list of 75. We purchased our state park pass for our car so we won’t be doing the $7 daily entry fee. We’re scheduled to take another day trip this weekend. I'm grateful we live in a state that maintains so much state park land. I’m also grateful the spike of anxiety I used to feel leaving the compound has decreased now that we’re up to twelve trips out of the house since the lockdowns began. I want to keep track of these numbers so I remember what this feels like. So I can think about what might come next. Don’t worry, we’ll have our Covid-Pack along for each of these adventures, and we’ll find joy in the journey.

*Addendum: I wrote this essay before Minneapolis began burning with the righteous rage regarding the murder of George Floyd by a uniformed Minneapolis police officer. I also wrote this essay before a white woman threatened to call the cops on Christian Cooper who was birdwatching after he simply asked her to leash her unleashed dog in Central Park, NYC. It would be a disservice to say these events are not part of the same continuum of white supremacist violence seeped in the DNA of the USA. And it would be irresponsible to not think about what it means for me as a queer Xicana femme to have access to space, time, resources, and “safety" to walk in the state parks of Minnesota (or any other site in the US) as we continue to work toward freedom and liberation for all to have access to every activity without fear of death. My next newsletter will reflect on the anti-racist work Minnesotans can do in these times as I try to make sense of the cognitive dissonance I am experiencing as I look out on the lake and the gorgeous full bloom of summer around me and I check-in with dear ones living in Minneapolis. I lived in the Powderhorn neighborhood for two years during graduate school, mere blocks away from the Cup Foods at 38th and Chicago before moving to the adjacent Nokomis neighborhood for five. The taquerías, panaderías, and pupuserías, la botanica, and the diverse businesses of Lake Street nourished me and helped me feel at home when I moved to Minneapolis. I finished writing my dissertation at the East Lake Library, for those who know me well, at a favorite wooden table overlooking the Eastern edge of Lake street. That library is where, for folks not familiar with the area, the road takes you across the Mississippi River and into St. Paul as it changes to Marshall Avenue. Vaimo and I used to take that road often while she lived part time and worked in the cities. We'd drive from her rented room at her friend Karen’s Powderhorn neighborhood home to the Minnesota Coalition for the Homeless offices on University Ave in St. Paul, cutting across I-94 on Cretin. My friend, the late Brandon Lacy Campos lived above the Global Market. Oh, what I would give to grab a chai with him, to hear his laugh one more time, and his sharp analysis of our current moment downstairs at Mapp’s Tea and Coffee. As someone who is deeply connected to reflecting on my relationship to space as central to my work, my heart is heavy for these spaces that mean so much to the communities that live there, built them, rely on them, love them. I’m not currently physically there, but the ghosts of my past remain. And, the part of me that was nurtured and allowed space to grow as a scholar and a thinker and an activist is in solidarity with the freedom fighters of South Minneapolis, now and always. It has always been our intention to share the ChicFinn Cottage with like-minded artists, activists, writers, scholars, and organizers in the thick of anti-oppression work. It that's you, and you need a retreat space, please be in touch. 

What I’m Reading
An Old Path
In tracing the use of the body as means for artistic intervention, art historian Amelia Jones provides a comprehensive chronology of the presence of the body in the conceptualization of artistic identity and the use of the body as medium. Her survey is filled with rich opportunities to link larger socio-political issues to the rise of artistic-making with the body. In terms of our current political moment, it is good to connect to the past to think about how our bodies are or are not engaging in similar or different ways. "The emergence or unveiling of the artist's body in the 1960s can be viewed as a means of enacting and asserting the self within the social. Because the body is the site through which public and private powers are articulated, it then becomes the site of protest where the revolutionary ideals of the rights movements that resist Modernism's repressive, exclusionary and colonizing logic can be articulated" (22-23). While the text provides a heavy focus on pancapitalism (their version of global late-stage capitalism), feminist performance art, and some focus on queer artists, the overall collection leans heavily on white artists and could use further analysis related to race and ability. 

A New Trail 
I borrowed this book from my library and was so struck by the way Woodson is able to weave together the voices and stories of a multi-generational Black family. Each chapter rotates through different narrators whose words seem like they could make for beautiful monologues. I listened to the audio production of this book and it felt like it could be easily adapted to the stage. In other ways, the book feels like a collection of vignettes, giving us different temporal reflections of the people involved in this family. Woodson interweaves themes related to class, race, gender, and sexuality as well as revels in various geographies and important historical events pertinent to our understandings of race relations in this country. If you're looking for something to feel connected to the struggle, this is a nice entry point. The book surprised me so much by how much I enjoyed it, I listened to it twice. 

What I’m Watching
An Instagram friend introduced me to this very cute and educational webseries called These Thems. The show centers the experience of gender non-binary, trans folks, and queer folx. It has a diverse cast that is the perfect combination of charming, awkward, insightful, and illuminating. Each episode is under 10 minutes and there are seven episodes. You can knock out this cute series in just an afternoon, or space them out because you're going to want to watch more. What would it be like to live in a world where people respected queer and trans identities? What if folks who see your pronouns are she/they would see you don't like to be referred to as "her" and just use the language you've indicated as important to you about you? The show works on a couple of levels - the one as a funny educational tool that illuminates our lives, and the other as a means to shine light on super underrepresented characters and storylines. A true gem. Check out this great interview with the creator, Gretchen Wylder. 

Vaimo and I also started watching Westworld. I know, I know. Late to the party. I recently restarted my HBO subscription to watch the most recent season of Insecure, and I had been seeing a lot of buzz about the newest season of Westworld on Twitter. We're almost through season one and after every episode we basically ask each other what we understand to be going on. I feel like I remember when Westworld first hit the scene seeing my Indigenous friends lauding the show as it pertains to Indigenous-Futurism. Though... halfway through the first season I have yet to see how this will reveal new ways of thinking about settler colonialism. Right now I'm seeing it through a passive critique of the white imagination of the "wild" west as most white (though not all) people come to the park to be entertained by the hosts (who are android creatures created to serve the sadistic needs of humans' violent pleasures). Certainly the themes related to technology and humanity are at the fore, and I'm super interested to see where the series will continue. Don't think I haven't seen that familiar menacing Mexican trope and as "the border" is mentioned in the park often there is much to unpack on the metaphorical invoking of the US/Mexico borderlands as part of this "Wild West" project. On a lighter note, I'm in need of Dolores' cowgirl outfit she changes into when she's on her journey to the maze. Where can I get one of those hats for my farm life? 
Artist Offerings

As Covid continues to wreak havoc on the art world institutions regardless of their large endowments I've been thinking a lot about this article: The Museum Does Not Exist
Which introduced me to this platform SSense a super interesting conglomeration of many things for sale and ideas to share
Which led me to share one of these interesting articles with my bestie who shared this incredibly interesting project an artist is doing around photography, identity, and narrative: 2Fik or Not 2Fik
As we look for guidance on how to dream new visions for a world without police violence perpetuated against Black, Indigenous, and people of color in the US Haymarket Books is offering a free download through this next week of Who Do You Serve? Who Do You Protect, get your copy!
Lastly, listen to this beautiful abolitionist poem, Could We Please Give the Police Departments to the Grandmothers by Junauda Petrus-Nasah. And while you're at it...
Listen to the beautiful stories of South Minneapolis on KRSM's Low-Power Radio Station highlighting stories and conversations from the Phillips Neighborhood. 

Creative Ritual
I painted a tiny landscape and swatched some new acrylic paints I hadn't yet used. I reclaimed a cart I am going to rig up as a way to roll my paints around in my studio space from my sister-in-law's junk pile. I've got big plans to finish renovating my studio space by the end of June. Ha! Hopefully saying it here will mean I will remove the wallpaper border, paint my remaining walls white, and organize my storage space so it all works better for me. I power washed some found wooden boards for a new painting series I'm preparing to begin, next step a vinegar spray down and priming so I can paint on one side. My ceramics prof arranged for us to be able to get back into the studio and glaze unfinished work we had to leave behind mid-semester. She fired them for us and now I'm the proud collector of so many lopsided cylinders I don't know what to do with them. I'm happy with a couple of the pieces; I hope to get them into good homes. I've been working with a close, trusted friend to get back into my book manuscript. She's two chapters out from having read the whole dang thing and then I will work on the revisions for hopefully the last time. I finalized a contribution for a 50 years of WGS zine which will also include a painting from my Interior Intimacies Series. I'll be happy to share it with you all when it comes out. When I write all of this out it helps me feel like I haven't been a slacker, or someone only obsessed with my twitter feed. I turned down a teaching job because it felt like returning to an abuser. I've got more healing to do, and as my professor John says, I'm a vigilante painter now. 

Questions to Ponder
What trails are you blazing? 

What paths are you following? 

How are you preparing yourself to best contribute to the goals of collective freedom? 

How are you tending to your needs to best contribute to the goals of collective freedom? 

How are you connecting to community with your authentic self? 

Thanks for journeying with me. I hope, as always, that you take what you need and leave the rest for someone else, or for another time. 

-KCF

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