Entrances to the Labyrinth I: The Mills
Here's a question: how much can hide in the corner of your eye? Worlds, actually, as any stargazer will tell you, recalling the comets, stars, and whole galaxies she has seen only in averted vision, finding that they slipped back into velvet invisibility when looked at straight on. The bird will flee if you walk directly towards it, just like the dream that dissolves into impressions as you race to commit it to words. In our cities dreams have been accumulating in the dusty corners while attention blazed against the gleaming and the manicured. If you don't look too hard the blank wall of the dead end turns aside to allow entry to the Labyrinth just out of sight.
Living on a neo-Gothic campus in Chicago such corners were everywhere, and it was while steeped in such spaces that the Labyrinth first began to twine through my dreams. Now I live in Minnesota, but the dreams persist, and in Entrances to the Labyrinth I will explore the very real places in Minneapolis that exude the haunting, forgotten, or incongrous nature that remind the alert passerby of the dreams hidden in the corner of his eye. One doesn't seek them out, nor travel long distances to find them, and the photos of series one (The Mills) and two (to follow) were taken within a ten-minute walk of my house. Follow along as I suggest, if not truly capture, the vast domains tucked into a few square blocks of city.