A couple weeks ago, out walking, I spied this message along the trail – the words “let it snow” inscribed across a tree scar in cherry red. While autumn leaves were still in abundance, the writer must have sensed a change in the air. Or had a taste for snowflakes on the tongue .
let it snow
I want to share a couple images from my Market Season show while it’s still on the walls at Common Roots. For today, a scene from the Kingfield Farmers Market in Minneapolis, replete with the charm of yesteryear but just in time for cucumber season…
And so begins a new day, a new journey. Without road map or known route, I test the air, scan the horizon, and set foot. I check my inner compass and search for a signpost to mark the way and then I see it: this way, magic…
Lake ice always has its dangers – unknown weak spots, cracks, buried currents. In this sheer state, free of snow, patterns emerge, currents and waves frozen in time, bubbles trapped near the surface, the whole lake, a giant mirror to the sky.
There is something about your unflinching response to your own childrens’ vomit that really makes you feel like a mom. Zola and I shared the flu yesterday. She got the throw-up. I got the aches and fever. Soda and saltines were pretty much the only things I wanted to look at.
the classic remedy
Art from the Street is an initiative of Make Better. People on the street were given art supplies to create their own paintings; an auction on Peavey Plaza & twitter raised awareness and money for the 13,000 homeless in Minnesota on any given night.
but for the grace of god, acrylic on canvas, by jeffrey (also pictured: valerie)
Old meets new in a collage of signs and architectural styles. The Foshay Tower was once the tallest skyscraper in Minneapolis; now, it holds its own among the modern glass towers that surround it, reflecting the past back through the eyes of the future.
cityscape, foshay reflection
Murray’s Restaurant – bastion of old school Minneapolis fine dining. No sushi here. Porterhouse and a stinger, please. And keep ’em coming.
There is a bank of pay phones in US Bank Plaza. They sit, unused and unnoticed as the bustling crowds of business folk go by, relics of a bygone era of clinking coins and collect calls. Sepia was a must for this old-time self portrait…
self portrait in pay phone
I rounded the corner in the skyway and encountered this disembodied head behind glass. One quick snap and he was gone.
talking head collage