flatland

my hotel window this morning. it's about 15 degrees warmer now than it was 12 hours ago. 

more stadium angles. 

the Midwest is slightly less boring than you might suspect. 

home of the two-martini lunch, old sport. 

Fort Snelling National Cemetery. 208,000 stark white gravestones as far as the train-bound eye can see.  

the tantalizing Lego wall at the fucking Mall of What's Wrong With America warrants a repeat, although it's not nearly as impressive as one might think. only the rows you can actually reach on this 25' wall are available, and many of the bins are repeats, and the largest pieces are 2x4. and no flat pieces! and only

one type of foliage! how rapidly such marvelous scenes bring out the hypercritical spoiled brat in me. 

there was also a station where you could build your own Lego humans, 3/$9.99. there were a lot of doctor torsos, helmets, and blue legs, and not much else. 

within the 4 story amusement park atrium thing. it was actually kinda neat, on a fucking cold and bleak day, to wander through this warm planty place. I sat on a bench like a creepy spinster and ate overpriced yogurt left over from the hotel, using a plastic fork I swiped from the Orange Julius. 

grainy things along Hiawatha Ave. 

and back downtown.

alleyway icicles. 

1st N. 

there are so many evocative and moldering properties for sale here. 

...requiring of the Yes filter. 

I love old advertising murals on brick walls. doesn't everyone? 

some salt-detritus on a bus stop bench.

and yet another random moment in the reality according to Minneapolis. 

I'm on the plane, still sitting at the gate. beside me is the grandmother, across the aisle is the mom, and in front are the two squirrely children with their unmuted godawful iPads. it's such a different world now. the grandmother is staring at the ceiling of the cabin, looking grim, clutching her reading glasses in one hand and her word find book in the other. 

when everyone was still in the terminal, the woman at the gate got on the intercom to welcome everyone to the flight and introduce the two main flight attendants, "Sherry and Mary." the guy next to me snickered at the the same time I did. 

the best part of traveling is going home and reappreciating everything you've got. 

Minneapolis day 2

one of the buildings of Riverside Plaza, née Cedar-Riverside. 

it was -6F with a -24F windchill. the gusts were sporadic. when everything was still, the sun was nearly warm. I was walking on a deserted bike trail and thinking about how delicious it is that the earth takes a pause. everything dies and waits in suspension. 

there were probably a hundred birds huddled here. I tried to take video to capture the racket they were making. 

I woke at 520am CST and watched the end of "What About Bob?" until the sun came up. that movie is so fucking great. AHOY. this was the view from my room. a couple blocks away is the mighty Mississippi, currently mostly-frozen. the exposed water exudes steam. 

didja know Tar-jay originated in the Twin Cities, and there's a museumy compound downtown devoted to its empire? and didja also know that it's inexplicably closed on Sundays?

more nerding out about Midwestern architecture: there are massive hulking turn-of-the-century buildings here that take up entire city blocks, all ornate and stolid and originally erected to deal with grains 'n shit. the way various industries have affected the American landscape in particular is a reality I've been greatly insulated from. I mean, fuck, this was once a manufacturing and industrial country! and by the time those traits went by the wayside, what the fuck did I care? I was ensconced on the coast, where everything's in a pipeline or a microchip and economics are boring and every idea is finite and tangible goods are outsourced and nothing really matters anyway. 

I dig the balcony. 

random street shot. 

the sky was cloudless and the sun was shining and the city seemed to prance provocatively in place. there are some cool-ass buildings here. 

inside the Minneapolis City Center. I really really like how this turned out. 

there is a dissonant juxtaposition between old and new here, but it kinda works. there's no geographical deterrent, I suppose; this area isn't earthquake- or volcano-prone, there's no risk of major flooding, no significant topographical inconveniences... planners basically have to factor in one thing, the fact that it can get uterus-shatteringly cold. and they have! the habitrail/skyway shit is eerie and awesome, because you're basically wandering through these otherwise deserted halls like you're trespassing through a bankrupt mall, and classical music is blaring, and although it'd be the perfect place to engage in nefarious activities, nobody does! 

Minneapolis knows what the fuck it is. I like that. 

I was shooting directly into the sun from the train, totally fucking blindly, so I am so happy this photo turned out. 

impressions of St Paul: 

-the university area is cool, but I guess that's still technically Minneapolis? 

-a shit-ton of Asian groceries, Asian restaurants, and pawn shops. and a White Castle! and more pawn shops. lots of strip malls. St Paul, or at least University Ave, the main road that the train trundles down, reminds me a lot of Aurora Ave in Seattle but with a much bigger sky. 

-all the houses have steeply pitched roofs and attics with windows. 

-the state capitol is undergoing renovation. it's white and curdlike with a noble cupola. 

-the vehicles here are all seriously salt-fucked. at first I was like "aww, they're all dirty, just like Alaska!" but it's salt. there are salt stains all over the sidewalks too. it's as if a flock of birds took a diffuse crap all over the region. 

-there appear to be some cool brick buildings in downtown St Paul, but I got an uneasy vibe from the place. it was desolate and the light was harsh. I am undoubtedly too abrupt in my judgment, but Minneapolis has a more welcoming patina. 

-some dude got on the train with his music blaring so loudly I was able to Soundhound it: "WWYD?" by K Camp. I purposely didn't have headphones in on the way there because I wanted to experience shit, but after hearing that, and then uncomfortably trying not to listen to a very young mother whine on her phone about how no one likes her and no one will loan her money and how her baby's turning 1 next week and won't have any presents, I listened to my music on the way back. didja know that "All Along the Watchtower" was inspired by a Minneapolis bridge? 

I spent approximately 30 seconds on the ground in St Paul: long enough to get off the train, take this photograph, and get on the train going back to Minneapolis. 

this fucking rad building on Washington. 

and a close-up. it looks like the Hawaii state capitol, actually. maybe they had the same architect who thought "tra-la, the Midwest, the tropics, who doesn't love jarring midcentury bombast?" 

and as seen from a reflective skybridge. 

and what's across the street from it. 

cozy!

I was so cold by the time I took this that my head was pounding. and when I got back to the hotel I had frozen fucking snot on my face that my allover numbness rendered me oblivious to. 

this shit is exotic to me. 

steam is so photogenic when it's colder'n fuck. 

everything is more photogenic when it's colder'n fuck, because it's kind of a privilege to stumble upon stuff that most people might miss because they're not outside because it's colder'n fuck. 

the way... we were. 

the new stadium, I guess. my hotel is on the left. this city is doing shit. there are cranes all over the place; it's like Seattle minus about 50 degrees. whereas St Paul, from my very limited vantage point, kinda wasn't. doing shit. maybe I should revisit St Paul so I don't feel like I'm missing something...

I want to come back in the summer. this place demands a long and completely aimless bicycle exploration. 

the center of the continent

random impressions of Minneapolis thus far:

-living in the northwest has made me semi-feral and cagey. why are you being nice? what do you want? people not only make eye contact here, but they say hello, and then they inquire about your well-being! an older man and I were both perusing the cheese section of a store and he abruptly turned to me and said "HOW ARE YOU?" I probably sounded like I'd just emerged from a cave. "oh, fine" I said hastily, and I left because his kindness was so discombobulating. 

-well drinks are "rail drinks" here. I had to google it. apparently this is a common parlance in Minnesota as well as Washington DC. it refers to the "rail" behind the bar where the shit-alcohol is kept. I want to go somewhere just so I can order a "rail whiskey and, uh, pop" and sound all local. 

-there are pro-vaccination ads on all the bus shelters. 

-guys carry shoe polish with them, and polish their manly boots whilst on the light rail. 

-they will give you free samples of pecan pie-flavored whiskey at the liquor store, and it tastes embarrassingly delicious in a  windowless-van kinda way.

-the sidewalks are nearly entirely free of ice. this city actually seems to accept the fact that it's oftentimes ass-cold, and makes the necessary accommodations.

-there are numbered avenues, and numbered streets, and north and south versions of all of these, and they sometimes intersect each other, and it takes a long fucking time walking in the brutal wind to correct your errors when you're lost. 

-iPhones hate the cold, and they'll just die- leaving you without, say, a map or camera for a good portion of your first day here. 

-there are very few pedestrians. for a while I felt smug about this, being the only one strolling about, until I realized they're all either using the skybridge infrastructure I haven't yet been able to locate, or they're just aware that it's colder than fuck and decided "I'm not fucking walking anyplace." 

-you'll hear "London Calling" play at least once. 

*

Riverside Plaza. this is what I'm gonna explore in the daylight tomorrow. I saw it looming from the train into the city. the property was built in 1973 as multi-income housing but devolved into, what did Wikipedia refer to them as...? ah yes, "crack stacks" by the 90s. they are considered a sociological model of low-income transitional housing "done right" because most residents don't stay there long (~4 years on average) before they move somewhere else. the buildings were modeled after Le Corbusier with color blocks to, I guess, soften the Brutalist blow. they were added to the National Register in 2010. so yeah. this is the shit that makes my pupils dilate.  

the architecture of housing projects is so dramatically different from one coast to the other. I wonder why that is. 

near Cedar Street.

Minneapolis at night requires a seedy, lurid filter. 

with tasteful lenses offered to the twee. 

I like being cold. I love the visceral feeling of being assaulted by the elements. there's something incredibly humbling and grounding about it. but I had to cut my night-jaunt short once my face was simultaneously numb and throbbing and my neck started to cramp. it's currently 10F with 17mph NW winds and a -8F windchill. refreshing! the breeze is what'll fuck you up, man. I have heinous windburn now. and hat-hair. can you tell? 

probably because I was standing around taking pictures of shit like this. 

it's the Twin Cities from the sky! the guy next to me looked out and said "looks cold." "flat, too!" I replied. he was also from Seattle, visiting his daughter and son-in-law. "he's gonna take me ice-fishing" he said. 

but this is where my love lives. I mean, fuck.

*

I realized I never uploaded a buncha other shite from the last week or so. 

*

furry optimism-nuggets. 'tis an early spring in Seattle. I didn't even wear a jacket to work for the last few days. I shall think about that now as I hide from the pitch-black ass-cold of beautiful Minneapolis. 

vertical jet trail. I gave it a sinister filter so it can be a faux-still from the Twilight Zone. the episode could be called "Don't Look Up" or something. 

Mensuration: (n) 1. the theory of measurement 2. the act of measuring geometric lengths, areas, volumes or masses. 

yeah, I did a double take also. 

oh Pike Street, you make me feel, if not necessarily old, at least indulgently bemused. and indulgent bemusement is kinda the precursor to being old if yer not careful. 

the reflection series! oh what's happening in Belltown? what isn't happening in Belltown! it's an exuberant hive of activity! 

and with all the construction it's also annoying as fuck to try to be a pedestrian in. 

but they're building pretty cool and happily glassy shit, at least- no blocky beige soul-sucks. you can at least check your grim reflection as you shuffle away to your less-expensive defaults. 

I think I like these various buildings better when they're under construction and there's still an air of anarchy and dissonance. 

I didn't filter this at all. the sky was that fucking blue. when I first saw these two I thought "it looks like they're about to hug each other." 

the angle of the streetlight almost matches the angle of the building. stood in the middle of the damn street to take this one. 

this crazy ampersand. it's been painted like this ever since I can remember, and undoubtedly much longer; Market House Corned Beef has been in Seattle since 1948. this row of businesses is probably not much longer for this world; it's only a few blocks away from the above photographs. so every time I go by it I'm uneasily relieved. 

have I ever been in this establishment? no. but I love knowing it's there. so if it does ever get torn down, i accept vague proxy responsibility. 

this was on one of the buses in Seattle. take those horrible classist condescending Yelp ads and black out their teeth and eyes. I glanced up, noticed this glorious vandalism, and laughed aloud. sorry it's blurry. 

"as in life, chill for best results." this actually made me angry. I suppose I'm not their target market. 

from my hotel window I can see smokestacks, a rooftop water tower, and flatness.