On the NE side from Downtown Minneapolis, there is a walking path along the banks of the Mississippi that follows the curves of the river, alternating between open vistas in low areas and lines of trees that form a high architecture of soft shade cover. There's a old bridge that's had it's hard stone structure pocked and softened, its arches reflected in the water. The space between the arches become half-closed eyes, looking at once over and below the ringlets of the mirrored surface. With its surreal potential, how could the water not attract the poet in me? Maybe it's a superstitious attachment--born at midnight, I came into the world under the water signs of Pisces and Aquarius. The water does divide the city with a place of beauty and fresh air. It's a place of contemplation and, like it's counterpart in the city's landscape of buildings, is a sublime, lonely place that reaches into and lights up one's dark dreams.
Painting: "Study for Garden Mural, Waves of Land Plots Being Droped From the Sky" by Joseph Rene, 1992
