Congratulations Public Art Lady!

Today the streets of Minneapolis won't be their usual frigid, winsomely constructed bittersweet open air harems for kind hearts and sad eyes.  No, today they'll be transformed through the combination of your nudity, one hundred and fifty pounds of copper wire, and an electrode crammed into your vagina with a readout screen linked to your forehead.

It's all part of a public art project you've recently received funding for, marginally endorsed by The Walker Center, that you've set up to blow some minds.

"People constantly look at women and valuate them for their sex organs and stuff," your hastily written online mission statement will announce.  "I'm gunna (sic) giv e'em (sic) an opportunity to really understand what's going on inside my uterus and what's 'on my mind.'"

Your statement will go on to misquote and decontextualize a number of prominent feminist theorists and artists, but the overarching mindset behind the whole project will be extremely clear: you want to make a statement about how women are seen in public as marginal commodities instead of citizens.  You plan to make your point by standing outside various grocery stores while covered in copper wire (which you hope will act as an insulating agent to prevent permanent tissue damage) and display images generated algorthymically from the moderate electrical currents coming out of your pussy.  The images will look like a more abstract version of the visualizations that i-Tunes used to make, back in the day.  You know, the ones that stoner kid from your dorm would insist on putting on during any sort of major party, just before the room cleared out.

Today you'll begin your project by standing outside the Wedge co-op in center of the Lyn-Lake area.  The Wedge storefront will offer little in the way of shelter from the elements, so you'll only last about twenty minutes before the shift manager, noticing the early signs of frostbite and hypothermia, will have two employees drag you inside.  She'll have them place you in the back office, where you'll be kept under blankets as you explain your project to the shift manager.  She'll nod and give you some feedback, recommending that you wait until summer to try the project out, and that you get your exhibit floor space at somewhere less competetive than The Walker.

"New York loves vaginas," she'll say as she pats you on the legs.  "And they love heavy handed art.  You could do really well there."

You'll thank her through chattering teeth as you flex your fingers, silently praying that they get enough feeling back for you to drink a cup of tea soon.

Congratulations Public Art Lady!