I made the news in Russia.

This is going to be a long post, because yesterday was my best, most magical day in Russia... and it's going to be nearly impossible to top in the next week and a half.

On Wednesdays we're supposed to have only two classes, finishing at 1, but we had two missed classes from June 12 (Russia Day) to make up. So we stayed in class until 3, and I was little weary by the end of it. I had plans to go to the Hermitage again (have only seen bits and pieces of it, I still have a looong way to go) and took a marshrutka almost all the way there without having to deal with the Metro. A marshrutka is like a small bus - it has a designated route but you can get off wherever you like and you can flag it down. They drive fast and dirty and get you where you need to go.

Saint Petersburg has seen fantastic weather all week, and yesterday was no exception. I was perfectly comfortable in my go-to jeans, t-shirt and cardigan - and of course my life-saving shoes from Ecco. My feet would be an absolute wreck without them, thanks to my impractical packing. Anyway, I walked along the Neva toward the Hermitage, and passed the Marble Palace, an extension of the Russian Museum. I had been wanting to see the new exhibit "Art for Art", which I didn't realize wasn't in the main building. So I scrapped my Hermitage plans and went for the Marble Palace instead - first great choice of the day. With my student ID I got in for $1.

I was absolutely amazed with this collection - all contemporary Russian artists (with a few Lichtensteins, Picassos, and Warhols thrown in for good measure) whose art dealt with the simple idea of art itself. I only got a couple of good pictures before a docent informed me I needed a photo ticket, so unfortunately I didn't get as many as I would have liked.

Sometimes the English translations are more entertaining than the exhibit itself - but this one sums it up pretty well.

I did manage to get a snap of this Warhol/Basquiat piece from my purse...very sneaky. It's only about 3/4 of the whole thing, but you get the idea. My mind was a little blown.

As I was wandering through this exhibit, I wondered why it was so quiet. Maybe Wednesdays aren't a popular museum day? Maybe the rest of the art-goers were more interested in the collections at the Hermitage? Wrong. One floor down, through a door that was closed when I had passed it previously, a new exhibit had just opened. I accidentally attended my second art opening in Saint Petersburg. A-Sun Wu is an artist from Taiwan who spent a lot of time living with tribes in Africa, learning from their way of life to create an entirely new style of African tribal motifs mixed with contemporary Asian art. It must have been a big-deal opening, because there were multiple news cameras, countless journalists and photographers, and a humble, smiling Asian man - A-Sun Wu himself.

I hung around until most people left, finding more rooms in the museum and finally stopping to read a history of the palace. One of the last photo-journalists to leave came up to me and asked if he could take a few photos of me with the art - and for a good 30 seconds or so he didn't realize I was a foreigner! He didn't speak much English, but I managed to tell him that I was studying Russian at Smolny - and after he learned that I'm sure he understood why the only words tumbling out of my mouth were a mumbling mess. However, he took a good 10 or so photographs, I understood what he asked me to do, he took my e-mail address and gave me the website that they would be used on. I got the impression that he was a photographer for the equivalent of the Associated Press - he said they would choose certain photos that would then go to different newspapers and websites that were covering news from the opening.

check out my Russian debut:

http://interpress.ru/index.php?page=photo&id=181168

After my head was soaked in great art, I still had about an hour and a half to make it to The Idiot where we were meeting for a group dinner. (nothing like an expensive restaurant paid for by KU :) ) I decided to walk to the neighborhood and find a nice spot to sit, relax, and write.

Lo and behold, there was an art gallery across the street from the restaurant, and I decided to give it a try. They were closing in 45 minutes, and I had to buzz the door to get in. They had already turned the lights out, but a lady turned them on for me, told me to pick up a guide to the art (there weren't labels on the walls) and let me to wander through the two-roomed gallery. She seemed really glad to have a visitor. I found a couple paintings I enjoyed, but most of them didn't really grab me.

When I was about to leave, the same lady came back out and asked what my impressions were. I didn't understand her question, and told her that I was still studying Russian. She spoke very good English, and we talked a little about learning languages, and she decided it would be best to converse with me in English. I agreed. I told her which painting was my favorite, just to make small talk, and she told me all about it and it's painter. She then proceeded to take me on an informal tour of the whole gallery (around 50 paintings) explaining bits and pieces about the artists, the works, etc. Many of them started to make more sense and look better to me, after she talked so knowledgeably about them all. After a good 40ish minutes of discussing the art with her, another visitor came in and it was time for me to get to The Idiot.

It was so incredible to have these people interested in me, and my interest in art. That's one reason I'm so in love with it - art can cross boundaries that are otherwise impenetrable. It can bring people from different countries, languages and cultures to an understanding of one another that would have been impossible. I feel like such an outsider here when I can't talk with the people I'd like to, and I can't let people know my intentions or thoughts. I'm getting much better at expressing this, but it's still incredibly difficult.

Yesterday was a day that reminded me why I'm here, and why I love to reach outside of my own boundaries.

I found a great spot to hide away and write in this stairwell by the Moika river - I could hear the people passing on the sidewalk above, but I was in my own little peaceful place.