ItemWorld: Nick Cave on barf bags, Lucinda Williams on tattoos, Miss Richfield & more

You know you live in a cool city when Nick Cave writes about it on a barf bag. Minneapolis is one of 22 towns to earn that truly distinct honor in the Australian rock star's new poetry/lyrics book, "The Sick Bag Song," which he wrote on last summer's North American tour. Most of the entries started out as notes that Cave scrawled onto sick bags during his airline rides between gigs. The notes from his unforgettable State Theatre gig last June include lines on Minneapolis' "sensible weatherproof walkways" and the adoring crowd. "The show of warmth is staggering," he scribbled on our vomit bag. Awww, so sweet. For the longer final entry in the book, he wrote about reading late Minneapolis poet John Berryman's "Dream Song" collection while staying at the Grand Hotel. "My innards rumble like a train," he penned. The book's Minneapolis entry also opens with this line: "I am vomiting up Milwaukee's mussels and pretzels in an alley." So not every city included in the book has something to be proud of. Luckily for us, Cave didn't actually use the Minneapolis sick bag for its intended purposes.

CHRIS RIEMENSCHNEIDER

What started out on a lark and with a wink has turned into something that may not yet be an institution, but is pretty significant. Miss Richfield, the alter-ego that performer Russ King first unveiled in 1996, is now being celebrated by the city itself. On Tuesday, the Richfield Human Rights Commission gave King and Miss Richfield its 2015 Gene and Mary Jacobsen Outstanding Citizen Award. Miss Richfield flew in from the East Coast to accept the honor, given for her work in advancing human rights in Richfield and for the attention that the character has drawn to the suburb south of Minneapolis. Miss Richfield then jetted back for gigs in New York and in Provincetown, Mass. "The work that she's done in the community with AIDS awareness and gay rights issues is quite commendable," said Council Member Edwina Garcia. "Plus, she has such a great heart. When she chose that name, Miss Richfield, she showed her pride and loyalty to the community. She is well-deserving."

Rohan Preston

Lucinda Williams was in a chatty mood Tuesday night in concert at the Minnesota Zoo. And it wasn't just about the bugs bugging her or the rainstorms and tornadoes encountered on tour in other cities. She wanted to talk about her encounters with some hardcore fans. "You write on them and then they make it into a tattoo," the Americana queen said. "It's an odd feeling. I mean that's an honor. That's a serious commitment [for a fan]. This one girl had me write my name on her arm. I made sure I didn't make a mistake. She came back [another time] and showed [the tattoo] to me. I thought it was a little large."

Jon Bream

Once upon a time there was a popular entertainment called "movies." There were even drive-in movies seen from cars. But then movie lovers got all highbrow and started calling themselves cinéastes and dubbed the stuff they looked at "cinema" or "film." Then along came video and pretty soon Walker Art Center got itself a "Film/Video" department and showed its movies in the "Walker Cinema." That was then. A couple weeks ago Walker went back to the future and renamed everything. Henceforth the Film/Video department will be known as "Moving Image." Also artists will get money for online "Moving Image Commissions" and stuff will be shown in a new "Media­theque." Veteran cinéastes, though, can still huddle in the Walker Cinema, which retains its "commitment to contemporary artists' moving image practice." So retro.

Popular Minnesota landscape photographer Craig Blacklock had a near-death experience last November from which he has mostly recovered. The Moose Lake resident was badly burned in a sauna fire that landed him in a hospital for three weeks and required skin grafts on his hands and forearm. He couldn't work for months and must still wear protective gloves. By spring, his hands had healed enough so he was able to photograph beach stones on the shore of Lake Superior. "For me, each stone, with its unique geologic history of fracturing and filling in, is a poignant metaphor for my burns, skin grafts and healing," he wrote in a recent e-mail. He's showing the new images in his Moose Lake gallery and will have 16 big prints for sale, along with copies of some of his 17 books, during a one-day benefit fundraiser June 24 at Gallery 13 in downtown Minneapolis. Music by Butch Thompson from 7 to 10 p.m.

M.A.