Gallery Admission Fees Part 2: Japan

I wrote the first version of this post in an email to my friend Betsy Rosenwald, who is one of the Communications people at the Mendel Art Gallery. It was written in the context of Saskatoon City Council’s move to get the Mendel to begin charging admission fees. I originally wrote it to provide another data point for the Mendel’s upcoming discussions on admission fees, and to give some perspective from outside the usual field of operations. It turned out a lot longer than I expected.

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I Have Guts

The phrase “I have guts” has a fairly narrow range of meaning. A few weeks ago I would have understood the expression to mean that the person was claiming to be strong, brave, or both. Having recently returned to Canada, and seen vast numbers of obese people—but that’s another post—the phrase lends itself to alternate interpretation.

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Sorry for the recent spate of brief posts. Since returning to Canada I’ve unexpectedly found other, non-blog activities to occupy my spare time. Activities which will have no further mention except to say that they are almost completely uproductive.

In any case, today I have a photo of an abandoned skull-cat-jester from my last day in Japan.

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Darling Baby

In most countries I’ve spent any significant amount of time in—read that as very few—children, and especially babies, are to a certain extent fashion accessories. Japan is no different, and sometimes a bit more extreme than what we’re used to in North America. Today’s featured creature is the object (or is that subject?) of someone’s overdeveloped mothering complex.

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Retro Writers

If you’ve spent any time in the Saskatchewan writing community, especially if that time was spent up to the point six or eight years ago when the Saskatchewan Writers Guild got a new logo, you’ll enjoy today’s photo.

Those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about need not despair, however. In my utterly biased opinion the photo is still worth looking at, even if you don’t get my regional Canadian corporate identity references.

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No Need For Ruby Slippers

Well, we made it. There’s no place like home—though I’m not really sure what home is at the moment—and we didn’t even need to steal any witchly footwear to get back.

What follows is a brief summary of events. Hopefully it’s coherent despite my sleep-deprived brain.

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