Don't mind if I do
Jun. 13th, 2026 05:58 pmWakanomori and I went to the Smith College Museum of Art the other day to see a Japan-related exhibit and ended up also seeing "Don't Mind If I Do," an exhibit centering disability and accessibility. The organizer, artist Finnegan Shannon, has created a space with bunches of comfortable chairs and couches arranged around a central space, and various objects move past you instead of you standing and walking past the objects. You're invited to touch them as well (... which I didn't realize until after).
At the entrance, a sign says "PLEASE WEAR A MASK IN THIS SPACE IN SOLIDARITY W/THE ARTISTS & FELLOW VISITORS."
There's a poem-statement on the walls:
And here's the art moving by on a conveyor belt:
You can click through to make this bigger, but the pink index card facing you says, "Give us this day our daily surprise"

The next one also gets bigger if you click through. The text on the pink index card says,
"We must leave evidence. Evidence that we were here, that we existed, that we survived and loved and ached ... Evidence for each other that there are other ways to live --past survival; past isolation."
The text on the green index card says,
"Some types of disability aesthetics in mail art:
*Presence/absence – blurring
Being there & not there
*Transmission of the body
--Sending a trace / evidence
of me to you
* [not quite legible--I didn't realize at the time that I could pick it up and look at it.]"

This one you can't make any bigger, but it's pretty easy to see. The puzzle piece says "in rooted ritual." The red hexagonal tile has white patterns inscribed in it.

There was also an alcove with postcards of various art pieces. You were invited to write a postcard to someone about the exhibit, address it, and they would mail it for you (!)
Finnegan writes
The message is on the wall above the postcard instructions. Finnegan signs it, "With love from my bed."
I was surprised by how moving I found the concept and execution. It's at the Smith College Museum of Art (Northampton, MA) through June 28.
At the entrance, a sign says "PLEASE WEAR A MASK IN THIS SPACE IN SOLIDARITY W/THE ARTISTS & FELLOW VISITORS."
There's a poem-statement on the walls:
And here's the art moving by on a conveyor belt:
You can click through to make this bigger, but the pink index card facing you says, "Give us this day our daily surprise"

The next one also gets bigger if you click through. The text on the pink index card says,
"We must leave evidence. Evidence that we were here, that we existed, that we survived and loved and ached ... Evidence for each other that there are other ways to live --past survival; past isolation."
The text on the green index card says,
"Some types of disability aesthetics in mail art:
*Presence/absence – blurring
Being there & not there
*Transmission of the body
--Sending a trace / evidence
of me to you
* [not quite legible--I didn't realize at the time that I could pick it up and look at it.]"

This one you can't make any bigger, but it's pretty easy to see. The puzzle piece says "in rooted ritual." The red hexagonal tile has white patterns inscribed in it.

There was also an alcove with postcards of various art pieces. You were invited to write a postcard to someone about the exhibit, address it, and they would mail it for you (!)
Finnegan writes
Over and over when conceptualizing Don't mind if I do, I used the phrase "the artwork comes to you." But it doesn't really.
I, like many disabled people, am most often at home. Even under the best of circumstances, there are huge logistical, financial, and psychological access barriers to get to an art space. Things like exhaustion, sickness, transportation issues, COVID risk, distance, life responsibilities, doctors' appointments, and more all mean I miss a lot.
Mail art, a creative movement that involves sending art through the postal system, was and continues to be a way to experience art outside of institutions, a way to participate across time and geography. As ableism continues to isolate disabled people, mail art is a tool for connection.
The message is on the wall above the postcard instructions. Finnegan signs it, "With love from my bed."
I was surprised by how moving I found the concept and execution. It's at the Smith College Museum of Art (Northampton, MA) through June 28.
no subject
Date: 2026-06-14 12:10 am (UTC)Thanks for bringing me this exhibit.
no subject
Date: 2026-06-14 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-06-14 12:22 am (UTC)I appreciate the thought very much.