littlebrumble: yourweek: jaysomething: vortexanomaly: jorge luis borges in minneapolis Borges! Really in Minneapolis? What statue is that? the mystery remains. solve, please. The first time I heard about Borges visiting Minneapolis was from my friend Stuart Klipper. I think my face melted a little bit when he told me. This photo was taken on Borges’ birthday in 1983. Stuart was his host for a portion of his stay and snapped a number of photos of Borges while he was visiting. Nearly a decade later the venerable Brad Zellar wrote a great piece mapping the literary history of the Twin Cities. He closes that article with Klipper’s recounting of Borges “singing an Argentine Milonga in his ear, and—perhaps under the spell of Hiawatha’s “dancing waters”—dancing a tango alone in Minnehaha Park.”

littlebrumble:

yourweek:

jaysomething:

vortexanomaly:

jorge luis borges in minneapolis

Borges! Really in Minneapolis? What statue is that?

the mystery remains. solve, please.

The first time I heard about Borges visiting Minneapolis was from my friend Stuart Klipper. I think my face melted a little bit when he told me. This photo was taken on Borges’ birthday in 1983. Stuart was his host for a portion of his stay and snapped a number of photos of Borges while he was visiting. Nearly a decade later the venerable Brad Zellar wrote a great piece mapping the literary history of the Twin Cities. He closes that article with Klipper’s recounting of Borges “singing an Argentine Milonga in his ear, and—perhaps under the spell of Hiawatha’s “dancing waters”—dancing a tango alone in Minnehaha Park.”
I was supposed to be headed to teach a workshop but I parked at the far edge of the community center lot so my car would have trees to gaze upon instead of a lamp post, an unnaturally occurring grassy knoll, or worst of all, the butt of another car. Whenever possible I like my car to have something engaging to look. Tonight it was the edge of the woods, teeming with birds, squirrels and other foraging critters preparing for winter. And there it was, a trail. “Sorry car, you won’t fit. You’ll have to wait here and I’ll go it alone. No need to worry, but if I’m not back in 15, honk for help.” I hopped out, gave a quick glance across the lot and dashed into the little trail. I prefer to just disappear quickly. Usually no one notices when you’re just gone. It’s when people witness the spectrum of disappearing that you stick out. I am a deer, I am a rabbit, I am a stick bug. Sometimes I take things in instantaneous stages. And before I knew it I was slipping down a loose dirt slope, tripping over a felled tree and dumped out into a clearing; a hidden highway replete with a mini divided thoroughfare. I looked to the left and saw in the distance the foreheads of skyscrapers peaking over the horizon. To the right, a mini pedestrian overpass and sky. I turned back to the inquisitive city foreheads, “Sorry city, you’re too small. You’ll have to wait here and I’ll go it alone.”

I was supposed to be headed to teach a workshop but I parked at the far edge of the community center lot so my car would have trees to gaze upon instead of a lamp post, an unnaturally occurring grassy knoll, or worst of all, the butt of another car. Whenever possible I like my car to have something engaging to look. Tonight it was the edge of the woods, teeming with birds, squirrels and other foraging critters preparing for winter. And there it was, a trail. “Sorry car, you won’t fit. You’ll have to wait here and I’ll go it alone. No need to worry, but if I’m not back in 15, honk for help.” I hopped out, gave a quick glance across the lot and dashed into the little trail. I prefer to just disappear quickly. Usually no one notices when you’re just gone. It’s when people witness the spectrum of disappearing that you stick out. I am a deer, I am a rabbit, I am a stick bug. Sometimes I take things in instantaneous stages. And before I knew it I was slipping down a loose dirt slope, tripping over a felled tree and dumped out into a clearing; a hidden highway replete with a mini divided thoroughfare. I looked to the left and saw in the distance the foreheads of skyscrapers peaking over the horizon. To the right, a mini pedestrian overpass and sky. I turned back to the inquisitive city foreheads, “Sorry city, you’re too small. You’ll have to wait here and I’ll go it alone.”

My friend Penguin came to visit Minneapolis back in 20-aught-7 or so and I had the chance to show him around and take in some of the culture. These were some of his favorite highlights. He had a good time but hasn’t been able to make it back for another visit. Apparently he’s got a lot of responsibility back home on the icebergs and such that’s been keeping him pretty busy.

Step 1: Take a photo.
Step 2: Duplicate, zoom, rotate, recombine.
Step 3: Repeat Step 2 until you’re happy.
Step 4: Show your work.

Mine started with a shot of this nice shrubbery in my front yard. I stopped once I got to the little spiral galaxy looking composite.

Double Diamond: Matthews Park baseball diamonds at midnight. Matthews Park is the nearest park to my place, a wonderfully convenient 2.5 blocks. It’s not the largest park in Minneapolis, it doesn’t have a beach, archery, bandstand, nor any kind of eatery. What it does have is a fun little wading pool that kids play in during the day and drunk/goofy adult-kids play in at night. It has some tennis courts, basketball hoops, two sets of playground equipment, and some kid that loves to swing more than anyone I’ve met in recent times. (Colin’s captured him on video and I’ve seen him first hand in the middle of the night at close distance). And it has a pretty nice hill that’s good for sledding in the winter and general sitting/scouting/reflecting any time. It also has this wonderfully flat field, upon which are placed two baseball diamonds that are seldom lit at night. As a city dweller born in the mountains of West Virginia, I appreciate a good dark night more than you could know, and I appreciate very much that they leave the lights off at night when I go for walks. But ever so often they leave them on for whatever reason and it’s a little exhilarating to find when they do. That big empty field lit up and ready to go but nobody there. It just kinda screaming of peaceful potential. No need to rush it, but just let it be known; play happens here.

Double Diamond: Matthews Park baseball diamonds at midnight.

Matthews Park is the nearest park to my place, a wonderfully convenient 2.5 blocks. It’s not the largest park in Minneapolis, it doesn’t have a beach, archery, bandstand, nor any kind of eatery.

What it does have is a fun little wading pool that kids play in during the day and drunk/goofy adult-kids play in at night. It has some tennis courts, basketball hoops, two sets of playground equipment, and some kid that loves to swing more than anyone I’ve met in recent times. (Colin’s captured him on video and I’ve seen him first hand in the middle of the night at close distance). And it has a pretty nice hill that’s good for sledding in the winter and general sitting/scouting/reflecting any time.
It also has this wonderfully flat field, upon which are placed two baseball diamonds that are seldom lit at night. As a city dweller born in the mountains of West Virginia, I appreciate a good dark night more than you could know, and I appreciate very much that they leave the lights off at night when I go for walks. But ever so often they leave them on for whatever reason and it’s a little exhilarating to find when they do. That big empty field lit up and ready to go but nobody there. It just kinda screaming of peaceful potential. No need to rush it, but just let it be known; play happens here.

I love the alleys in Saint Paul. I’ve always felt that Saint Paul has way better alleys than Minneapolis. Obviously, I haven’t been in every alley in the cities but the St. Paul alleys are pretty striking and not hard to stumble upon. I also have always believed that Saint Paul has better light than Minneapolis. I think I can make a fairly reasonable case in support of my “Quality of Light” observations. Maybe another time after I have some more data. Anyway, here’s an alley in Saint Paul.

I love the alleys in Saint Paul. I’ve always felt that Saint Paul has way better alleys than Minneapolis. Obviously, I haven’t been in every alley in the cities but the St. Paul alleys are pretty striking and not hard to stumble upon. I also have always believed that Saint Paul has better light than Minneapolis. I think I can make a fairly reasonable case in support of my “Quality of Light” observations. Maybe another time after I have some more data.

Anyway, here’s an alley in Saint Paul.

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