Viewing the work of an artist who has been making art for decades is like looking at an iceberg. You see the little part that is showing but not the hidden part, which is years of study, making art, learning about oneself, and inventing.

The work of John Dilg, on exhibit at St. Ambrose University's Catich Gallery through September 29, may seem simple at first glance, but that is only the tip, the obvious part. Part of the reason is that as one paints for a long time, one begins to consciously and unconsciously shed the unnecessary. What remains is the essential. Dilg's work is simple, spare, and verges on being a visual language, like hieroglyphs or ideograms. There is a subtle humor about them, and the dozen small paintings spread around the room feel like the characters or phrases of this visual language.

You open the door and are engulfed by the plump and relentless beats from the DJ. The cave-like basement has pockets of illumination that attract buzzing swarms of twenty- and thirty-somethings to clusters of art, like chicly clad insects to an irresistible bug zapper. The art ranges from jarring paintings, whimsical sketches, and disconcerting collages to kinetic sculptures with whirling wheels of spurs and cast turds on a stick gathered in some kind of dookie Stonehenge.

This was the energetic scene at the Harvester show this spring in Cedar Rapids. The two-day show was a culmination of more than five months of grassroots work by three friends who shared a vision of helping showcase the artistic endeavors of non- or under-represented artists in Iowa. Their journey and lessons can be used by local artists who want to develop their own venue or event.

"In my nightmare, black ominous towers vibrating with negative energy, producing a very low and constant humming sound, surround a picturesque little cottage with a flower garden and a white picket fence. A little girl steps out of the cottage and into the garden, where she bends over to pick a daisy. I yell, ‘Don't pick the flowers,' and then I awaken. I knew that the flower was the trigger that would detonate the black towers (nuclear missiles) surrounding her."

- excerpt from Harry Brown's artist statement

Stacey is just kickin' back. She has her hair pulled up with a red and white bandanna, and her feet are resting on a pale-blue footstool. The calmness in her face and smooth tonal transitions in her skin initially stand in contrast with the house party of color in the afghan draped behind her wooden chair.

This Friday marks the opening of Adaptation to Evacuation: From NOLA to Iowa, a show of recent work by Karen Blomme at the Peanut Gallery in Rock Island. The exhibit showcases the transformation of Blomme's art over the course of two tumultuous years of study, reflection, migration, production, and adaptation.