art here

One of our favorite things to do each May is visit Art-a-Whirl in our old Northeast Minneapolis neighborhood. This open studio tour is now the largest of its kind in the country and grows every year. The addition of food trucks, new breweries, and live music in recent years make it all the more festive.

There is literally art EVERYWHERE from warehouses full of artist studios to galleries to people laying paintings out on the lawn or selling out of the back of a minivan. Quality and experience levels vary. Considerably. This was one that made us laugh. I wonder how many people accepted the invitation to ‘come upstairs’…

135/365: art here

seeing double

Reflections are my favorite thing to play with for the way they distort, confuse, and combine the real world into collage. And I don’t know why, but the flag often has a melancholy feeling for me. Especially in connection with people’s homes. It makes me think they’ve lost someone to war.

134/365: flag

out of the blue

More often than not, the extra in the ordinary is simply a matter of seeing it that way.

32/365: daydream

now showing

Playing with shadows two days in a row means two consecutive days of sunshine! This silhouette was so strong and clear, it was like someone came along and painted the tree on the side of the house. The best part  was that I’d never noticed it before, making we wonder if it was a rare and special occurrence or if I just hadn’t been paying attention.

23/365: tree silhouette with window

02.26.13 quiet time

The garden sleeps, tucked in beneath the snow, undisturbed by the occasional rabbit crossing, unaware of the wind and weather.

Time passes and leaves marks. Blue-gray metal beneath flaking paint and the blue-green hint of patina. Remnant leaves still on the vine almost vibrant in their crunchy orange contrast, a memento of seasons past.

Winter garden: paradigm of biding one’s time.

57/365: faucet with vine

01.17.13 still / life

The window frames a readymade tableau. The everyday objects, the dusty stillness are redolent of someone else’s life. I would never be invited to enter this intimate space, yet here is a peek. An anonymous portrait shot in the nude.

17/365: still life in the snow

P.S. I feel a series coming on. See Day 4.