Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Part I: Discovering Albert Lea’s strongest asset, in my opinion October 27, 2015

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EXITING INTERSTATE 35 in southeastern Minnesota into Albert Lea, I saw the usual hotels, fast food places, a Big Box retailer and gas stations that could have made this Anywhere, USA. Nothing special. Just another place to fill up with food or gas, turn around and continue onto a destination.

But Albert Lea was my destination on a recent day trip to explore this city of some 18,000.

I knew little of this community, only that it hosts the annual Big Island Rendezvous and Eddie Cochran Days and is home to a chemical dependency treatment center.

 

Historic buildings in Albert Lea, 89 interchange to furniture store

 

It’s strongest asset, as I was about to discover, lies in the heart of downtown. Albert Lea boasts a Commercial Historic District with some incredible architecture. You would never know that, though, driving into town from the first exit on the north. You would never know that by skimming the tourism website or reading the Experience Albert Lea brochure (which mentions the district but features no photos of old buildings).

 

Historic buildings in Albert Lea, 57 tops of buildings

 

An informational kiosk in the downtown shares info about historic buildings.

A kiosk in the downtown shares info about historic buildings.

 

Historic buildings in Albert Lea, 56 furniture store

 

I discovered this treasure of historic buildings simply by driving into the downtown. One hundred and fifteen buildings comprise the Albert Lea Commercial Historic District, according to information I later found on the Minnesota Historical Society website. Wow.

Architectural details on the bank.

Architectural details on the former Albert Lea State Bank building.

This stunning old bank building, if all goes as hoped, will provide housing and serve as an art center.

The former bank building, one of the most impressive buildings downtown.

Sculpted lady above the bank building entry.

Sculpted lady above the bank building entry.

If you appreciate aged buildings that are architecturally stunning, then you must tour Albert Lea. Especially impressive is the massive former Albert Lea State Bank building anchoring a corner of South Broadway. Built in 1922 for $200,000, the structure features a marble facade and is decorated with cream hued terra cotta art. The City of Albert Lea invested about $2 million in its exterior restoration in 2007. Millions more, perhaps three times as much, are needed for additional interior (electrical, plumbing, heating/cooling, etc.) improvements.

Plans are to house the Art Center in the historic bank.

Plans are to house the Art Center in the historic bank.

The Art Center is currently in a building across the street from the bank.

The Art Center is currently in a building across the street from the bank.

A sign above the door labels the old bank as the future home of the Albert Lea Art Center. Online research also reveals that a Kansas developer plans to convert the upper floors into income-limited apartments.  However, that was contingent on securing housing tax credits, which the Minnesota Housing Finance Agency recently failed to award to the proposed project. Albert Lea officials and the developer must now decide whether to reapply for the tax credits (for the third time) or pursue other options.

A local whom I met downtown (prior to the MHFA decision) said I could probably buy the building for $10. Through November, the first floor of the old bank houses a Des Moines based West End Architectural Salvage pop-up shop, next open from 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. October 30 – November 1.

So much potential exists in Albert Lea's downtown given the volume of historic buildings.

So much potential exists in Albert Lea’s downtown given the volume of historic buildings.

Many empty storefronts occupy downtown Albert Lea. I don’t know why this surprises me. But it does. In recent years, I’ve visited all too many mid-sized Minnesota cities expecting to find bustling downtowns. Instead, I find many gaps between businesses.

A view of a side street in the downtown.

A view of a side street in the downtown.

In all fairness to Albert Lea, plenty of businesses still exist. It’s just that to a first-time visitor, multiple vacant storefronts present an impression of a struggling downtown. Correct assessment or not, visual impressions count.

Even though a sign flashed open in this antique shop, we could not figure out a way to gain entry to the business around newly-poured sidewalks.

Even though a sign flashed open in this antique shop, I could not figure out a way to gain entry to the business around newly-poured sidewalks on the day I was in town.

And, in all fairness to Albert Lea, I visited on a particularly blustery day, less than ideal conditions for fully exploring this community. The city lies between two lakes. But the weather was too blasted cold, grey and windy to even consider much time outdoors. As it was, I struggled to hold my camera steady against the wind for downtown photos. Road and sidewalk construction created additional obstacles.

 

Historic buildings in Albert Lea, 71 jeweler building

 

Will I return to Albert Lea? Perhaps.

Another former bank building in the downtown.

Another former bank building in the downtown.

I see the potential in this community for a destination downtown. That requires a strong mission/vision, money and a marketing plan that fully embraces and promotes Albert Lea’s Commercial Historic District as its greatest asset.

Tomorrow I'll take you inside the second building from the left in this image.

Tomorrow I’ll take you inside the third building from the corner in this image.

FYI: Return tomorrow to read the second part in this series from Albert Lea. I will take you inside a business that’s truly one-of-a-kind.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Southern Minnesota harvest, in images and words October 14, 2015

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Unharvested cornfields line a gravel road in western Rice County, Minnesota.

Unharvested cornfields line a gravel road in western Rice County, Minnesota.

DRIVING A GRAVEL ROAD on an October afternoon draws you into the intimacy of the country. Cornfield close. See the harvest close.

A grain truck awaits the harvest in a field.

Grain trucks like this hold the harvest.

Here, where the dust flies and combines roar and grain trucks idle, you understand a farmer’s work. He is of the land. Hands on the steering wheel. Eyes on rows. Working long days, often into the darkness of a country night, to bring in the crop.

Farmers race against time to harvest the crop.

Harvest has started in this cornfield.

Weariness weighs. Weather forecasts bring relief or worry as the farmer races against time and the elements. Sunshine and grey skies. Too wet or too dry. Yields up, prices down.

A farmer pauses to check his grain truck during harvesting.

A farmer pauses to check his grain truck during harvesting.

It is the life of the farmer, of my heritage.

Driving through the hilly terrain of western Rice County to view the harvest and the land.

Driving through the hilly terrain of western Rice County to view the harvest and the land.

Although I left the farm more than four decades ago, I remain rooted to the land in memory. Every autumn I need to follow gravel roads, to connect with that which shaped me. I need cornfield close, harvest close.

BONUS PHOTOS (A drive in the country is about more than the harvest. It’s also about noticing the land, the animals, the sky, the everything rural):

My eyes are drawn to the clear blue sky, the leaves changing color and the muted tones of the harvested cornfield.

My eyes are drawn to the clear blue sky, the leaves changing color and the muted tones of the harvested field.

Occasionally waterways slice through the land. This seems a popular fishing spot given the bobbers and hooks snared on utility lines.

Occasionally waterways slice through the land. This seems a popular fishing spot given the bobbers and hooks snared on utility lines.

I always wonder at the abandonment of buildings. Why? And by whom?

I always wonder at the abandonment of buildings. Why? And by whom?

A beautiful surprise of oaks and water.

A beautiful surprise of oaks and water.

And then, the pastoral scene of cattle in pasture.

And then, the pastoral scene of grazing cattle.

FYI: These rural scenes were photographed Sunday afternoon in western Rice County, Minnesota.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Autumn in Faribault October 12, 2015

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Nearly noon on Sunday along Second Avenue in Faribault, Minnesota.

Nearly noon on Sunday along Second Avenue in Faribault, Minnesota.

IF I COULD TAKE A DAY and tuck it away for safekeeping, to pull out on the dreariest of bone-chilling Minnesota winter days, it would be yesterday.

Gorgeous fall colors in a tree along Fifth Street Northwest across from Trinity Lutheran Church.

Gorgeous fall colors in a maple tree along Fifth Street Northwest across from Trinity Lutheran Church.

Sunday here in southeastern Minnesota was gloriously beautiful as in blue skies and sunshine and warmth melding with the changing colors of the season.

Biking through River Bend Nature Center.

Biking through River Bend Nature Center.

A walk in the woods. A drive in the country. Fishing at the King Mill Dam. Sunday was a day to be cherished.

A deep blue sky provides the backdrop for aged cottonwood trees in River Bend Nature Center, Faribault.

A deep blue sky provides the backdrop for aged cottonwood trees in River Bend Nature Center, Faribault.

My mom told me a few weeks ago how much she loves this month of cobalt skies. I’ve always felt the same about the skies of autumn.

A leaf from the maple tree in my backyard.

A leaf from the maple tree in my backyard.

And the hues of the leaves. Do I forget from year to year how lovely are the blazing oranges, the brilliant reds, the subtle browns? Or are the colors sharper, more vibrant, this year?

The sun blazes through cottonwoods in Tee Pee Tonka Park.

The sun blazes through cottonwoods in Teepee Tonka Park.

Really, it doesn’t matter. What matters is seeing, and appreciating, the blessedness of autumn.

BONUS PHOTOS:

A black-eyed susan adds a jolt of color to a road ditch at River Bend Nature Center.

A black-eyed susan adds a jolt of color to a road ditch at River Bend Nature Center.

Prairie grasses have dried to a muted brown at River Bend Nature Center.

Prairie grasses have dried to a muted brown at River Bend Nature Center.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Time choices October 11, 2015

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My WalMart watch photographs just like a Rolex, doesn't it? I did not edit this image, just in case you're wondering.

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo

TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON and a time to every purpose under heaven…

Ever since the pastor read Ecclesiastes 3: 1 – 13 as a scripture reading last week at my church, I’ve pondered the words in verse 7: …a time to be silent and a time to speak.

How do you know? How do you know when to remain silent or when to speak?

I understand a time to weep and a time to laugh and a time to mourn and a time to dance. Those are easy. But how do you decide whether to open your mouth or zip your lips?

Taking that a bit further, how do you decide when to act or when to allow things to unfold as they may?

I believe that we are sometimes called to act and/or to speak. But how do we determine when we should talk or take action? President Obama, for example, recently stated in the aftermath of the deadly shootings in Oregon that “our thoughts and prayers are not enough.” I believe firmly in the power of prayer and I pray daily. Yet, I agree with the President. (I’m not taking a stand on gun control here, just the need to “do something.”)

As parents, especially, we struggle with how much we should say, if anything. It is easy when the kids are little. We are, mostly, able to curb negative behavior, keep our children from danger, and guide them by our examples, discipline, love and care.

Then our children grow into adulthood and they are in charge of their lives. We have given them, as my friend Kathleen says, “roots and wings, roots and wings.” How, then, do you determine when to speak or to remain silent? If your adult son or daughter was trapped inside a burning building, you wouldn’t just stand there and do nothing simply because they are adults, would you? I’m oversimplifying. But you get my point.

Have you witnessed a situation involving strangers that requires an instant decision? Speak up or remain a silent bystander. Recently, while attending a community event, I watched an angry young mother rage at her daughter. Yanking and yelling. I felt my blood pressure rise as the preschooler cowered in her mother’s presence and slunk into a corner behind a door. If the mother would have pushed an inch further, I would have intervened. I decided not to inflame the situation and was eventually able to comfort the young girl with soft words of kindness. Later I witnessed the mom once again yelling at her passel of children. And I wondered if she treats her children like this in public, how does she treat them at home? And why was she seemingly so overwhelmed? What was she dealing with in her life?

I don’t mean to judge. But you see the dilemma. Determining whether to speak or to remain silent is not always black-and-white clear.

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Photographing the Minneapolis skyline October 8, 2015

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Frame 1: Northbound on Intestate 35W toward downtown Minneapolis.

Frame 1: Northbound on Intestate 35W toward downtown Minneapolis.

EVERY TIME MY HUSBAND and I journey toward and around downtown Minneapolis, I am taken by the skyline. Generally, I am not a fan of skyscrapers embedded in concrete, of vertical lines that block ground level views and cast long shadows. I am of the prairie, of horizontal lines and broad vistas.

Frame 2:

Frame 2: You best know which lane you should be driving in.

Yet, I have grown to appreciate the Minneapolis skyline. From a distance. And through the viewfinder of my Canon DSLR. My camera distracts me from the often congested traffic, although my definition of congested certainly differs from that of a city dweller.

Frame 3: Traffic builds as you approach the downtown.

Frame 3: Traffic builds as we approach the downtown. Great sign placement choice by Yahoo.

Afterward, when I am back in my Faribault home office, photos uploaded into my computer, I study the frames. And I see in the downtown skyline images an almost other-worldly quality, as if the collection of buildings is background in an animated film. Unreal. Stacked Lego blocks. The work of an artist rather than that of engineers and builders.

Frame 4: Enough traffic for me.

Frame 4: Enough traffic for me. About this time I’m asking my husband, “Do you know which lane you’re supposed to be in?”

Frame 5

Frame 5: Traffic slows in a tight spot.

Frame 6: We're going right.

Frame 6: We’re going right. Better than taking the congested 16A exit.

Frame 7: I love this painterly view of the Minneapolis skyline.

Frame 7: I love this painterly view of the Minneapolis skyline.

Frame 8: One last look at the skyline.

Frame 8: One last look at the skyline.

Do you see what I’m seeing, that surreal artistic quality in the buildings?

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting to the past at a Minnesota barn dance, Part III September 30, 2015

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The sun sets behind John and Debbie Becker's rural Dundas, Minnesota, barn.

The sun sets behind John and Debbie Becker’s rural Dundas, Minnesota, barn on the evening of their September 26 barn dance.

THRICE NOW I’VE DOCUMENTED dances in the Becker Farms barn. And what an honor it has been to photograph these 2011, 2012 and now 2015 celebrations in such a bucolic rural setting in southeastern Minnesota. I delight in photos, which combined with words, write family and personal histories.

After guests ate, several tables would be removed for dancing.

After guests ate, several tables were removed for dancing.

I probably will never visit our nation’s capitol or see the Pacific Ocean or tour the Rockefeller Estate or attend a Broadway play or study a Van Gogh painting. But that’s OK. I have danced in a barn, something few Baby Boomers likely have done. I can write “Danced in a Barn” in my life’s story.

Peering out a hayloft door, I shot this scene of a neighboring farm place.

Peering out a hayloft door, I shot this scene of a pond and neighboring farm place.

Dining in the barn.

Dining in the barn.

Playing with the rural version of Jenga blocks.

Playing with the rural version of Jenga blocks.

I appreciate the simple things in life. Sun setting. Great conversation and good music. Satisfying food that’s tasty and uncomplicated. Joy that comes from watching children at play, realizing too many years have passed since I was a kid free-ranging on the farm.

Visiting outside the barn.

Visiting outside the barn.

To my friends John and Debbie Becker, I am grateful for the chances to dance in their 100-year-old barn, to witness the coming together of family and friends in a hayloft.

Guests gathered inside and out on a lovely September evening.

Guests gathered inside and out on a lovely September evening.

There’s something about a barn dance that roots to the rural past in a way that no museum can. As I danced, I could imagine the dances of yesteryear, hayloft empty of loose hay, eager young men and anxious young women eyeing each other from opposite sides of the loft. I could imagine food spread across planks, the scent of animals below mingling with the smell of fried chicken.

Parking vehicles was a major job considering the hundreds of invited guests.

Parking vehicles was a major job considering the hundreds of invited guests.

And outside, horses tethered rather than vehicles parked.

Even this Dekalb sign inside the barn generated memories of Dekalb corn growing in my dad's fields and me detasseling corn for this seed company.

Even this Dekalb sign inside the barn generated memories of Dekalb corn growing in my dad’s fields and me detasseling corn for this seed company.

Grandparents build memories with grandchildren at the barn dance.

Grandparents build memories with grandchildren at the barn dance.

I'm sure the four judges will always remember the difficulty of choosing winners in the homemade pie judging contest.

I’m sure the four judges will always remember the difficulty of choosing winners in the homemade pie baking contest.

Red wagons hold timeless universal appeal to kids.

Red wagons hold timeless universal appeal to kids.

This girl's cowgirl hat reminded me of the straw hats I wore while playing make-believe as a child.

This girl’s cowgirl hat reminds me of the straw hats I wore while playing make-believe as a child.

As this boy pulled a wagon up the incline toward the hayloft, I wondered if he would climb aboard for a wild ride down. Instead, he released the wagon. I would have rode down, gripping the handle.

As this boy pulled a wagon up the incline toward the hayloft, I wondered if he would climb aboard for a wild ride down. Instead, he released the wagon. I would have careened down, gripping the handle.

Whether my imagination matches historic reality, I am unsure. But I am certain of one thing. A barn dance connects folks to the past in a profound way.

I am always comfortably at home on a farm like the Beckers' farm site.

I am always comfortably at home on a farm like the Beckers’ farm site.

For me, a woman from the land, dancing in a hayloft fits me better than gliding across the smoothest of floors in an elegant ballroom. I am comfortably at home in a barn, in a way that’s sweetly familiar. Connected to my rural Minnesota prairie roots.

FYI: Click here and here to read my previous posts on the September 26 barn dance in rural Rice County, Minnesota.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Commemorating a Minnesota barn’s 100th birthday, Part II September 29, 2015

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A welcoming scene staged next to the barn and attached milkhouse.

An inviting scene staged next to the barn and attached milkhouse.

FROM THE MINUTE I received a verbal invitation to the barn dance, I noted the event on the September 26 square of my kitchen calendar. Not only would I be celebrating the 100th birthday of the Becker family barn. But I would also be celebrating my birthday. How sweet is that?

Posted inside the barn...

Posted inside the barn…

With my deep rural Minnesota roots and appreciation for aged barns restored and maintained, this party suited me. Hosts John and Debbie Becker, Rice County crop farmers, are dear friends, a salt-of-the earth couple who cherish faith, family and farming.

Guests pulled up to tables and dined on hot beef and pork sandwiches, salads and more.

Guests pulled up to tables and dined on hot beef and pork sandwiches, salads and more.

And they know how to throw one heck of a party in their 100-year-old barn, in the Becker family since 1948.

Garden goods provided for great fall decorating.

Garden goods provided for great fall decorating.

One of numerous parking attendants waits for vehicles to arrive.

One of numerous parking attendants waits for vehicles to arrive.

The kitchen crew, and Debbie, prepare for guests to arrive.

The kitchen crew, and Debbie, prepare for guests to arrive.

Posted on the pie table.

Posted on the pie table.

Debbie, the eldest in a family of I’ve lost count how many siblings, could be a professional party planner. She’s that good at food planning, decorating and remembering every single detail of creating a memorable and fun event. John is right there beside her, assuring, too, that everything comes together. They complement one another. And even though they pulled in family and friends—for decorating, parking, kitchen duty, bartending, pie judging and more—ultimately they are the ones who managed to plan for and welcome 300-plus guests to their farm.

The kids all wanted rides on the golf cart.

The kids all wanted rides on the golf cart.

This little guy wouldn't even set down his toy John Deere tractor to stack over-sized Jenga blocks.

This little guy wouldn’t even set down his toy John Deere tractor to stack over-sized Jenga blocks.

The pie table drew lots of kids because...

This farm-themed pie drew lots of kids to look and some to play.

By far the most creatively-staged pie.

By far the most creatively-staged pie.

Lots of visiting inside and outside the barn.

Lots of visiting inside and outside the barn.

One family member flew in from England. And I overheard, mid-evening, young boys protesting their family’s early departure. I watched kids scramble onto a golf cart for rides with the guy giving lifts from parking areas to barn. A smile curved my mouth at the sight of young boys clutching John Deere tractors, a wee sweet girl in pink cowgirl boots peering at pies, and circles of folks visiting in the barn.

The opportunities for sweet portraits in the golden hour of photography were endless.

The opportunities for sweet portraits in the golden hour of photography were endless.

My dear friend Mandy arrives with her pear-gingersnap pie still warm from the oven. It was absolutely delicious as I sampled it after the pie judging.

My dear friend Mandy arrives with her pear-gingersnap pie still warm from the oven. It was absolutely delicious as I sampled it after the pie judging.

My husband tried on this abandoned cowboy hat. But it was several sizes too small.

My husband tried on this abandoned cowboy hat. But it was several sizes too small.

The scenes unfolding before me appeared down-home rural Americana—girls swaying in a weathered porch swing, a guest bearing pie for the pie-baking contest, a straw cowboy hat resting on a picnic table.

I photographed darling Ava at the last barn dance and her mom asked me to photograph her again. Daylight was fading. Yet I managed to snap a cute portrait.

I photographed darling Ava at the last barn dance and her mom asked me to photograph her again. Daylight was fading. Yet I managed to snap a cute portrait.

A grandma and her grandkids dressed in western attire for the barn dance.

A grandma and her grandkids dressed in western attire for the barn dance.

Many a farmer, including my dad, carried a hankie/bandanna in his pocket.

Many a farmer once carried a hankie/bandanna in his pocket.

Although costumes were not required, vintage or western attire was encouraged. I tied a red bandanna around my neck and called it good. But the kids, oh, the kids. So cute in their cowgirl/cowboy hats and garb. And even some adults dressed western style in flannel shirts and hats, in bibs or with red hankie in pocket. Many sported western boots.

While two girls sway on a swing, another builds blocks.

While two girls sway on a swing, another stacks blocks.

Debbie and John, loving aunt and uncle that they are, assured the kids had plenty to do, passing along to the next generation memories connected to family and the old barn.

 

Barn dance, 108 wheel in front of barn

 

FYI: Click here to read my first post about the barn dance. And check back tomorrow for one final post.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Facing the fowl September 22, 2015

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MY MOM PAUSED in our conversation. She wondered if she was hearing me right. I had just stated that I thought the chickens beautiful. Not all chickens. But these chickens.

 

Chickens, rooster

 

She had reason to question my observation. Ever since I was tormented and pecked at and chased by a rooster while growing up on our Minnesota farm, I have disliked chickens. I am afraid of them, of their flapping wings and sharp beaks and talons.

 

Chickens, patterned chicken

 

But these chickens were different. They are not plain white. And the rooster did not chase me.

 

Chickens, buff colored chicken

 

I was able to stand within feet of uncaged multi-colored fowl and appreciate their beauty. Sheen of blue in black feathers. Patterns of black and white. A beautiful buff. Chickens that were actually cute, if a chicken can be truly cute.

 

Chickens, black chicken

 

Even I surprised myself. I was not terrified. I did not scamper away. I drew the line, though, at cuddling the chickens belonging to friends Steve and Joy. Or at being inside a shed with a hen, gentle as she might appear. My trust is not quite that secure.

 

Chickens, flying chicken

 

And when a chicken flew onto a fence top, I ended the photo session. She was flapping a little too close for my comfort. I have memories of unhappy hens in the chicken coop who did not like their eggs stolen.

 

Chickens, coop

 

I will never really like chickens. But I am at least beginning to tolerate them. The pretty ones.

HOW ABOUT YOU? What’s your experience with chickens?

FYI: I first observed my friends’ chickens when they were running around the yard. I did not have my camera with me. But when I visited again, I had my camera. These images were taken then.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In Faribault: When music inspires art September 21, 2015

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"The Music Nut," a ceramic sculpture by Tami Resler.

“The Music Nut,” a ceramic sculpture by Tami Resler

I AM A PERSON WHO DELIGHTS in art, like the devoted sports fan loyal to a team.

"The Music Man," oil on canvas by Dana Hanson

“The Music Man,” oil on canvas by Dana Hanson

Perhaps it is the absence of access to the arts in my formative years that causes me to so appreciate art today. I can’t recall ever visiting an art gallery while growing up in rural southwestern Minnesota. If there were any galleries, I was unaware. Art, for me, was limited to school art projects. Life was about the basics, not the arts.

"Central Park Notes," an oil on canvas by Pat Johnson

“Central Park Notes,” oil on canvas by Pat Johnson

I especially celebrate occasions when the arts are brought to folks in an unpretentious way. For years, Faribault, my home of 33 years some 120 miles from my prairie hometown, has offered free weekly outdoor summer concerts in Central Park. This year, visual art was added, much to my delight. It’s important, I think, to expose people to art in a relaxed setting, where they feel comfortable approaching artists, watching them create and asking questions.

A snippet of Linda Van Lear's "Girl & Violin" watercolor pencil

A snippet of Linda Van Lear’s “Girl & Violin” watercolor pencil

Local artists set up their easels, pulled out their supplies and created music-themed art as musicians performed. It was perfect, this melding of music and art in the park.

A poster posted at the initial exhibit.

A poster posted at the initial exhibit.

And then, to honor the participating artists, a several-day “Nature of Music” exhibit was staged in a connecting space between the library and community center to showcase selected pieces. I missed that event. But the en plein air art will be exhibited again, this time from September 22 – November 10 in the Lois Vranesh Boardroom Gallery at the Paradise Center for the Arts in historic downtown Faribault. An artists’ reception is slated for 5 – 7 p.m. on Friday, September 25. Other gallery openings are also set for that evening.

This shows one of the many faces in Irina Mikhaylova's "Faces in the Crowd" done in soft pastels.

This shows one of the many faces in Irina Mikhaylova’s “Faces in the Crowd,” done in soft pastels.

The Paradise is a wonderful center for the arts. Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to live in a community with an arts center and a library. You see, I also grew up in a town without a library…although today Vesta has a Little Free Library.

"At the Bandshell" in soft pastels by Barbara Bruns

“At the Bandshell” in soft pastels by Barbara Bruns

Murphy's face in "Murphy at Central Park," acrylic on hardboard by Julie Fakler

Murphy’s face in “Murphy at Central Park,” acrylic on hardboard by Julie Fakler

A section of Nicole Volk's "Camelot Calls," inktense on watercolor paper

A section of Nicole Volk’s “Camelot Calls,” inktense on watercolor paper

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Artwork was photographed with permission of Jeff Jarvis, Faribault Park & Rec Enrichment & Communications Coordinator, who organized the en plein air program.

Note that unavoidable glare on glass shows up on some of the photos. That is the reason I sometimes did not photograph an entire work of art. But sometimes I wanted only to show you a snippet peek at the entire piece.

 

A message about domestic violence in the unlikeliest of places September 17, 2015

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THE POSTER CAUGHT MY ATTENTION. As much for its powerful message as its location.

I had just closed the door on a stall in the women’s bathroom at a toy store in rural southeastern Minnesota when I saw the sign:

 

Domestic violence, rural campaign view 1

 

My reaction was one of thankfulness. To Praxis International, a nonprofit corporation which created this rural public awareness campaign about domestic violence. And to Lark Toys for posting this message in a bathroom stall. Brilliant.

I want you to read and reread the words. Read them until you understand. Read them until they are imprinted upon your mind. Read them until you realize that, by failing to speak up or by looking the other way or by not trusting your gut, you are likely enabling an abuser.

Care.

Refuse to remain silent.

Understand, though, that you cannot “rescue” someone who is being verbally, mentally, emotionally and/or physically abused, controlled and manipulated. But you can educate yourself and perhaps subsequently help. You can connect with those who can offer professional advice.

 

Domestic violence, rural campaign view 2

 

On the poster posted in the Lark Toys bathroom in Kellogg, readers are directed to Rochester-based Women’s Shelter, Inc. That organization provides outreach, advocacy and housing to battered women and their children. The shelter has satellite offices in four rural counties outside of Rochester, home to the world-renowned Mayo Clinic.

In the “Who We Serve” portion of the shelter’s website is this statement:

We have served families from around the world, due to our close proximity to the Mayo Clinic. Domestic Violence can happen to anyone regardless of their educational background, financial status, race, or country of origin.

That was demonstrated in Minnesota just last week when a company CEO murdered his wife and three teenage children in their $2 million home in an upscale west metro neighborhood.

This violence must stop. With the Short family’s murder, the number of those killed as a result of domestic homicide in Minnesota this year stood at twenty. That’s 20 too many. 

Domestic violence can happen anywhere. In a farmhouse. In a mansion. In an apartment. In your home. Next door. Down the street. To anyone. Anywhere.

Care.

Refuse to remain silent.

Help your neighbor. Or a loved one, friend or stranger. Help yourself.

FYI: Click here to learn more about domestic violence.

If you are in an abusive relationship, call the National Domestic Violence hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or a local shelter/crisis line in your community.

If you are in immediate danger, call 911.

Click here to read a story posted yesterday on Minnesota Public Radio about domestic violence.

You can order educational materials, including the rural-themed poster I saw on the toy store bathroom door, by clicking here.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling