Tag Archives: Wug Laku

Hallway Ode

The closing of Wug Laku’s Studio & Garage hit many in the local art scene with a measure of surprise. Wug Laku has been a fixture in the Indianapolis art scene for decades, and has operated his Studio & Garage for over five years. NUVO ran a great article, written by Dan Grossman, about Wug and the “Garage,” as he called it. The article is in the current issue of NUVO, which is out until tomorrow afternoon, when the new issue hits newsstands. You can also read the article here:
http://www.nuvo.net/ArtsBlog/archives/2013/01/10/last-friday-at-wugs-first-at-m10-and-litmus#.UPXgDidEF8E

Wug Laku, photographed by Stephen Simonetto for NUVO in 2009

I have my own feelings about this event. I felt like it was a good thing, for Wug. He would be untethered from his gallery and be able to paint again, do shows all over, and generally go back to being an artist. Then I walked into the empty space a few days ago and promptly burst into tears. Lots of good memories there. Those feelings came out like this:

Hallway Ode

The garage sits empty
as hallways pulse an echo
straining.
The sounds of distant laughter
lilting.
Liquid cloth passing
paused.
Filled the iris
Expanded that orb, that gateway
for a heartbeat.
The corridor
devoid of purpose
weeps.

(c) 2013 Nancy Lee

Last Fri at Wug's, First Fri at M10 and Litmus

Changes at Circle City Industrial Complex include the closing of Wug Laku’s Studio & Garage and the opening of new spaces such as M10 Studio and Litmus Gallery.
via Last Fri at Wug’s, First Fri at M10 and Litmus.

World Geek

I didn’t know this was going to happen. But I wrote a poem today. Last night was a big opening at my building of artists, and the last opening for friend and fellow artist and art advocate, Wug Laku. He’s venturing out on his own. I was inspired to write about my own journey. I’m thrilled every day to be here, even when I’m sad.
Earth, from the astronauts viewpoint

World Geek



I am
enthralled with this world
pregnant with its possibilities.
Deep in wells of blue
sirens beckon.
“Beyond her limited means,” they whisper, embarrassed for me.
But I’ve already set off.
Left base camp at dawn, totally unprepared.
But journeying still.
Fast slow fast fast slow.
The joke is
I’m doing it anyway.

—Nancy Lee