Dude Weather Subscribe to Secrets Minneapolis / St. Paul

Filtering by tag

A Rakish Interview: Local Author Bill Meissner

by Max Ross
posted on Sep. 15, 2008 - 9:41am


"[Bill] Meissner has the storyteller's gift," writes Tim O'Brien, "for creating living characters, living speech, living emotions, living drama."

Reservations

by Ann Bauer
posted on Jul. 30, 2007 - 12:00am

I first met Dennis Banks two years ago, at a gallery opening featuring the work of Dick Bancroft, a local photographer who specializes in chronicling the American Indian Movement (AIM) and father of the famous polar explorer, Ann Bancroft.

The Voyage of the Heath Ledger

by Jon Lurie
posted on Jun. 25, 2007 - 12:00am

On June 17, 2006, we quietly paddled the Heath Ledger across the Canadian border. We hadn’t exactly planned to sneak into Canada. Joe and I were on a mission—to reach Hudson Bay by canoe, still hundreds of miles to the northeast—and as we approached the border we realized that interactions with government officials might endanger that mission. For one thing, we were unsure whether the guards would let Joe, with his extensive juvenile record, into the country.

The World’s Toughest Indian

by Jon Lurie
posted on May. 29, 2007 - 12:00am

When Sherman Alexie came to town last month to promote

Dakota Diaspora

by Jon Lurie
posted on Apr. 30, 2007 - 12:00am

Twenty-eight-year-old identical twins Kate and Carly Beane share similarly striking features—demure brown eyes and hair, high cheek bones, and quick smiles that precede regular bouts of easy, endearing laughter.

Fire and Rice

by Amy Thielen
posted on Jul. 22, 2004 - 12:00am

In a good year, the wild rice grows thick on the lakes and rivers in northern Minnesota toward the end of August. The rice stalks multiply into such dense thickets that the waters become nearly impassable—to everything but the sleek canoes that glide through for harvesting. This job takes two people: one to knock rice into the canoe, and the other to propel the canoe through the water. Last year, I took the canoe’s middle seat, and my ricing partner stood tall in the back, pushing at the bottom of the creek bed with a twelve-foot pole, hand over hand, maintaining a gentle pace.
Syndicate content