My first impression of Minneapolis was one of isolation—oddly uninhabited for such a populous place. No graffiti, no neon colors, no mess I associate with large cities such as Portland, Seattle or San Francisco. The visual consistency was surprising.
This is a city that has extremely cold weather. Almost no store fronts exist facing the streets downtown; everything is connected via skyways or underground tunnels. I was struck by how much it felt like the deserts of the Southwest. The feeling that life is everywhere, but somehow remains totally hidden.
I was left feeling exposed but dazzled by the sense of isolation, even the roads are covered in specks of salt, diamonds beaming in the sun. Something is happening in Minneapolis, something one could watch on its numerous security cameras. It’s a story about arctic winters, corporate culture and staying hidden in plain sight.