More re: Fish and the Little Guy
Sep. 27th, 2002 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrWent out for dinner with Karen (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
minnehaha). Karen, who has already suggested one extremely useful idea, the Lake Harriet elf (known to all and sundry as "the Little Guy") handed me yet another great idea over dinner, reminding me of the Frank Gehry giant sculpture, Standing Glass Fish, in the Walker Art Center sculpture garden. Suggestive, eh?
Have been thinking more about where the Como Park Conservatory fits into all this. It occurs to me that after all it might be a summer counterpart to the Ice Palace.
After dinner, Karen took me over to Lake Harriet, where we wandered around in the dark, and with just a little bit of backtracking, we were able to locate the home of the Little Guy. It really is sort of a performance art piece: people bring stuff and arrange it around the Little Guy's door. There was a water bottle with flowers standing a little to one side, and various modest offerings scattered around right in front of the door: a box of crayons, several pennies, a ring. (I left a penny, too. Why not?) The door was about four inches high. A tiny cable ran through the ring in the lion's mouth door handle (which was itself about the size of a quarter). The cable was padlocked to the tree, locking the door for the winter. A small brass oval was screwed to the door which read:
"I have moved home to my castle toward the East
You may write me at
Mr. Little Guy
P.O. Box 50358
Minneapolis, MN 55405"
If you're looking for Mr. Little Guy's tree, go to the intersection of Lake Harriet Parkway and Queen, and then take the closest iron railed stairs down to the lake. The tree is very close to the foot of the stairs. It has a ring of cement bricks around it.
I am curious about how the Little Guy answers the questions that people leave for him. Karen says that his answers are typed on purple paper. An elf with a typewriter . . . who knew? The only sample of his writing I have found on the Internet was his response to a query that someone at the City Pages sent him, asking him how the city could be made more liveable:
If I use the Little Guy in the book, and I am more and more certain that I will, I certainly never intend to show him onstage. He will continue to be a mysterious off-stage character, known only through his writing.
After dinner, as I was very tired (yes, I did get up at 5:15 a.m. to do step aerobics) Karen lent me her book on the Heart of the Beast Theater and drove me home. Will be going to bed soon.
Yawning,
Peg
minnehaha). Karen, who has already suggested one extremely useful idea, the Lake Harriet elf (known to all and sundry as "the Little Guy") handed me yet another great idea over dinner, reminding me of the Frank Gehry giant sculpture, Standing Glass Fish, in the Walker Art Center sculpture garden. Suggestive, eh?Have been thinking more about where the Como Park Conservatory fits into all this. It occurs to me that after all it might be a summer counterpart to the Ice Palace.
After dinner, Karen took me over to Lake Harriet, where we wandered around in the dark, and with just a little bit of backtracking, we were able to locate the home of the Little Guy. It really is sort of a performance art piece: people bring stuff and arrange it around the Little Guy's door. There was a water bottle with flowers standing a little to one side, and various modest offerings scattered around right in front of the door: a box of crayons, several pennies, a ring. (I left a penny, too. Why not?) The door was about four inches high. A tiny cable ran through the ring in the lion's mouth door handle (which was itself about the size of a quarter). The cable was padlocked to the tree, locking the door for the winter. A small brass oval was screwed to the door which read:
"I have moved home to my castle toward the East
You may write me at
Mr. Little Guy
P.O. Box 50358
Minneapolis, MN 55405"
If you're looking for Mr. Little Guy's tree, go to the intersection of Lake Harriet Parkway and Queen, and then take the closest iron railed stairs down to the lake. The tree is very close to the foot of the stairs. It has a ring of cement bricks around it.
I am curious about how the Little Guy answers the questions that people leave for him. Karen says that his answers are typed on purple paper. An elf with a typewriter . . . who knew? The only sample of his writing I have found on the Internet was his response to a query that someone at the City Pages sent him, asking him how the city could be made more liveable:
While I don't have a magic wand, I do have a trick knee. That aside, I'd like to see more shade trees planted. There is a burgeoning population of elves looking for affordable housing. Barring that, I think the city could use more cup holders. And side airbags. Enjoy the winter. And remember, I believe in you.
If I use the Little Guy in the book, and I am more and more certain that I will, I certainly never intend to show him onstage. He will continue to be a mysterious off-stage character, known only through his writing.
After dinner, as I was very tired (yes, I did get up at 5:15 a.m. to do step aerobics) Karen lent me her book on the Heart of the Beast Theater and drove me home. Will be going to bed soon.
Yawning,
Peg
