A note from the editor:
My Culture Journal is a weekly series that consists of sharing a week in the cultural lives of Indy residents. Sometimes these journals will include alias names to protect the identity of people who may wish to be private, as in the case of “CA” in Jenny DelFuego’s journal. If you are interested in submitting a journal, please send an email to Mirror Indy arts and culture editor Jennifer Delgadillo at jennifer.delgadillo@mirrorindy.org and tell us about yourself.
Day One:
10:30 a.m. I swirl the steamy coffee grounds from the French press, stack the dishes and wonder how it will be to meet this stranger. CA wears a paint-flecked apron and spies me curiously. Her eyebrows raise when our eyes meet.
12:30 p.m. After spending two hours with CA, I am astonished. Her home is an extension of her voice: a living installation with paintings, prints, textiles, sculpture and literal writing on the wall. I am in a treasure trove. Stashed away under one roof is a lifetime of compelling work, unseen. Driving away I am shook and can’t return to normal so I swing by GANGGANG‘s office on the off chance that Alyse Tucker Bounds or Braydee Euliss are around. No dice. Back at my studio I push my own work aside and urgently email folks about CA. Her work is a silent song.
Day Two:
2:30 p.m. Hubbard & Cravens with Dr. Caitlyn Placek. Caity and I initially crossed paths at Companion where I discovered that her research is centered on women and opioid addiction. We share interests. Caity’s work shines light on unsung stories and is poised to shift paradigms. Art collab sparks ignited.
4 p.m. I’m at The Harrison Center to say hi to friends, see the art shows, meet the Storytelling Drawing Sessions Greatriarch and snag a slice of Greek’s pizza.
6 p.m. At 201 Studios for collage night, hosted by Christina Hollering. Kismetic Beer Company is downstairs. It’s women-owned and the pints are tasty.
Day Three:
2 p.m. I return to CA’s studio. We stage and price artwork. We talk about logistics.
8 p.m. I pick up the mail, catch part of Kyle Long’s Echoes of Indiana Avenue on WFYI 90.1 while I drive.
11 p.m. I watched the Geminids meteor shower. My sister saw 15 meteors in half an hour in her part of the world. It was my turn. I fixed a boulevardier to keep me warm, bundled up and brought a blanket outside. Wait. Wait. Wait. Oh! The bright meteor streaked across the sky and disappeared.
Day Four:
4 a.m. Work at home studio. Write. Sketch. Vital solitude.
11:30 a.m. Cooking at home is an extension of my studio practice. The ingredients and aromas dovetail with the narratives on my mind. When possible, I prefer a bite which elicits reverential silence, an involuntary happy sway or an audible moan. The watermelon balsamic vinegar and Peruvian olive oil from Artisano’s elevated today’s offering.
Day Five:
10:30 a.m. CA’s semi-private studio and home sale. I witness other people’s jaws drop at CA’s work. Unprompted, someone told her she is a treasure.
6 p.m. Two holiday parties tonight. First stop, Maialina in Fountain Square. Boulevardier to start. Caesar salad. Mussels. Tasty.
8:30 p.m. Holiday party at Pier 48, across from Gainbridge Fieldhouse. Scallops were on point. Keep in mind for future reference: $2 oysters Sunday through Thursday, from 4 to 6 p.m.
Day Six:
3:30 p.m. An art event on the weekend that isn’t First Friday? Hooray! I’m at Companion for the closing reception of “Spotlight Search,” Maura Jasper’s first solo exhibit in Indianapolis, accompanied by a musical set by Baby Tears and Chris Voorhees. Baby Tears is my shorthand for Nathaniel Russell due to a blue vial in one of his prints in his February show at Tube Factory. His wit gets me to pause or giggle.
Both interdisciplinary artists, Jasper and I chuckled over what mediums we don’t work in. I relate to her endurance, that it took a decade to complete this body of work, that there is more work coming from this subject.
Storage Space is another gallery I visit in Mapleton-Fall Creek with art offerings beyond First Friday.
Day Seven:
11a.m. I’m at RIZE at Ironworks to meet with an L.A. filmmaker. I swing by the Provision’s lobby to see “Mammoth” by Quincy Owens and point out areas where many hands and stories were woven in the making of this piece.
1 p.m. Blue Sushi Sake Grill for food, friends, art and life.
9 p.m. I talk to Lauren Ditchley, who is no longer with us. I talk with her a lot. About being tourists in our own town, how every corner can hum with the quiet magic of the unexpected.
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