The art crawl feels like a monthly carnival that comes to a small town, not so much because of the content of the art, but because of the way the crowd reacts to it. On Saturday, hundreds of us weathered the strange November storm, found parking against all odds, walked through what feels like a post-apocalyptic ruin of a 1950s shopping mall, questioned whether what we were looking at was art-art or just the janitor's closet, and drank all the free wine you could throw at us.
Below, you'll find the best and the worst of the Crawl — notably absent is Jerkwater Burg, which was really cool and psychedelic and smelled like a riverbed.


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