Now see these:

• Shadowtricks from *.empty
• Nurses: 1928 from Shorpy
• Waiting from Stray Light Foto

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes. (Note the ghostly figure in the foreground: you have to stand pretty still for the Graflex to notice you…)

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes.

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod; I haven’t heard it yet (we’re heading to Grand Marais this morning, so I probably won’t get a chance to listen until this evening), but I’m sure it’s done with the same panache they bring to all their stories. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!

Yes, it’s that iconic landmark of Minneapolis–St. Mary’s Basilica. With a big metal cherry in front of it.

I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!

I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!

This past weekend I attended an in-law family event, and had to bite my tongue while listening to some Neanderthal political “discourse” on illegal immigration, Darfur, and Iraq. As noted previously, I tend to avoid political discussions, because I find that in the current climate they have a nasty viciousness that belies rational discourse. And when I’m at family events, I’d much rather play Disney Uno or Dora Memory with the kids than talk to the adults, anyway.

But then I started to think that silence may be the worst possible response in this political climate. Isn’t history full of instances where nastiness was met with silence, and nastiness won? So I’ve decided to start another weekly feature here, one that takes a politically divisive or misunderstood issue, gives it some careful consideration, and suggests some resources that people who are thoughtful and concerned might investigate. I’m not making this a “political blog” by any stretch–the main focus will still be photography and fiction–but I think I’ve got an obligation to speak my mind if I want my boys to live in a world that’s better than what we seem to be making for them.

So tomorrow–a little something on Darfur.

Hare on Bell on Portland Stone Piers by Barry Flanagan, 1983, at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.

This is a composite of two pictures of “Octopus” by Alexander Calder at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.

I used to visit the sculpture garden occasionally when I lived in Nordeast; it was a nice summer bike ride. But then I moved to the south side, bought a house, got married, and had kids.

The day before Easter I had an unencumbered few hours while Kelly was studying and the boys were at Auntie Kathleen’s house, so I took the train downtown and hiked through Loring Park. I hadn’t been to the Walker for five years or so, and I felt like a tourist. Well, not quite as much of a tourist as the people who were posing for pictures in front of the Spoonbridge, trying to make it look like they were taking a bite out of the cherry or holding it in their fingers. Such fun. I may have some shots of the shenanigans taken with the Spotmatic; we’ll see how they come out.

This was taken with the Nomad–it’s what the cherry might have looked like if it had been built in 1951 instead of 1991.