The Headache That Ate Minneapolis

Notice I'm not saying "the headache that ate my brain." That's kind of a touchy subject, so instead of projecting my pain inwards, I'm projecting it out onto the city. Beware, Minneapolis, this could hurt.

The infusion helped me for about a day and a half. I got to sleep. It was a so-so solution, that will cost about $150. Oy.

So I've been watching more movies. My vision seems to be getting worse, that is, when I have headaches, so I can't read for distraction, which is very annoying, as it's one of my favorite things to do and a pleasure that combats the frustration with the headache as well as being a distraction from the pain. I don't wanna think about it too much.

So, movies! I've seen some great ones lately.

Beautiful Losers was really interesting, a documentary about a group of visual artists who found inspiration and motivation from each other and how they did small shows together, even when nobody knew their work. Several of these anti-establishment artists are now part of the mainstream culture-- Shepard Fairey (the red and blue poster of Obama with the word "HOPE" under it) Stephen "ESPO" Powers, Geoff McFettride (think "Oneify," the 2005 Pepsi campaign), and Margaret Kilgallen among them.

I sometimes found the film annoying because the artists are pretty inarticulate about their art and what it means to them, but then again that's why they make visual art, right? Not necessarily, of course, as some writers are artists (ahem!) and vice versa. But I think it's pretty common that visual artists don't know how to talk about their work. And the other thing is, the filmmaker plays with this inability to articulate at times, and makes it funny. I did get weary of what one reviewer aptly described as the "slacker ennui," how nothing matters in the end because we're all dust. Overall, though, it was a really engaging documentary, especially knowing that some of these artists (notably, Shepard Fairey) are not doing so well negotiating the establishment now that they are part of it. It's a great question to consider: what happens when you hate the mass culture because they don't understand you, and then they suddenly get you and everyone wants to be like you, so much that they imitate your art?