The Longest Street in Minneapolis

Lyndale Avenue is the longest street in Minneapolis; the only street extending from the northern city limits to the southern city limits. It cuts through the center of town, offering the harried commuter a curious blend of strip malls, motels, laundromats, and dive bars. There's houses too.

Untitled #1, Lyndale Series, 2010; 8x10" Archival Pigment Print

We bought one of those houses in 2004, at the height of the subprime fiasco. It's not every day that a bank offers hundreds of thousands of dollars to the self-employed. We took the money and found our dream house: a 100 year old, one-story cottage on Lyndale.  Within a few years, our mortgage provider (the largest subprime lender in the world) declared bankruptcy. We refinanced the night before, locking into a standard mortgage at the last minute on what might be the only house we'll ever own.

Lyndale is busy. When I mow the strip of grass out front, I'm careful not to fall into traffic, whizzing inches away. Crime isn't an issue so much as lurking road rage, ready to strike the moment I back my car into rush hour. I've had three accidents this year.

Airplanes scream overhead on their way to the airport. Strangers stop by and ask for money during the day. At night they cry. After the first year, we realized nothing good was going to come down Lyndale. I tore the doorbell out.

The backyard is our fortress, a sanctuary away from the river of noise, fenced in by our neighbor's yards. This project is a portrait of my family, and our modern life, on Lyndale.