Together our memories remake the landscape.
Landscapes of Grief is a growing collection of projects grappling with this remaking.
***
STAY CONNECTED
Together our memories remake the landscape.
Landscapes of Grief is a growing collection of projects grappling with this remaking.
***
STAY CONNECTED
Collaborative Street Altar Art Builds
Join us for a collective art making gathering to decorate street altars. These altars will be put up around the neighborhood to memorialize experiences of the ICE occupation. As the traces of this winter start to fade, the altars will serve as visible, public sites of remembrance.
We’ll be painting, exchanging stories, sharing a meal, and getting to know each other.
Powderhorn Park, South Side of the Park.
All ages / All are welcome / Free / Food / Spanish + English Translation
Creación colaborativa de altares callejeros
Únete a nosotros en un encuentro de creación artística colectiva para decorar altares callejeros. Estos altares se instalarán en el vecindario para conmemorar las experiencias vividas durante la ocupación de ICE. A medida que se desvanecen los rastros de este invierno, los altares servirán como espacios públicos y visibles para la memoria.
Pintaremos, intercambiaremos historias, compartiremos una comida y nos conoceremos.
Powderhorn Park, lado sur del parque.
Todas las edades / Todos son bienvenidos / Gratis / Comida / Traducción español-inglés
What We Carried / Offerings from the Occupied Twin Cities, June 2026
The widespread state violence in Minneapolis and St. Paul this past winter completely transformed our lives and the landscapes around us. What We Carried / Offerings from the Occupied Twin Cities is a temporary collage of ephemera, places, tools, and memories from Operation Metro Surge. These objects—collected from our go-bags, car floors, road sides, and coat pockets—speak to our experiences during this occupation and explore questions about how different experiences of grief meet each other.
These altars are not displays of trauma, but rather proposals for new arts of engaging individual and collective grief and their infinite entanglements.
We live amongst the ruins. We find beauty in the grief and horrors. We remember the dead and the stolen, and we keep fighting for one another. May we see each other clearly over the crumbled walls. In love and rage, C,D,L
Temporary Installation, June 2026.
Street Altars, March 2026
These street altars hope to connect us in our grief of living under ICE’s regime of abductions and violent repression.
Find the green altar in Powderhorn another outside the community garden at 3437 15th Ave S, Find the yellow one across the park at Elliot and 32nd, and find the red altar across the river at 612 Maryland Ave E, St Paul.
Street Gatherings, January 2026
These photos were taken in South Minneapolis, January 2026 during moments of gathering. In each of these moments it felt important to be part of a collective, even though the circumstances that brought us together were horrific. These road intersections mean new things to me now.
Monarchs and the Art of Living in a Fascist Occupation, January 2026
Every year monarch butterflies drift silently and peacefully across the militarized borders between nation-states — defiant and beautifully free. But they don’t do it alone! Monarchs must move as a group, sharing the heat of their small bodies in order to survive the coldest nights. Just like the monarchs, our survival cannot be separated from our reliance on each other. Our entanglement is essential to our collective survival.
In the weeks since “Operation Metro Surge” sent thousands of ICE agents to Minnesota, we have experienced overwhelming, daily state violence. We have witnessed people abducted from bus stops on their way to work, adults stolen from their homes and torn from their children. We have washed pepper spray from the eyes of friends, and had our own eyes washed out by strangers. We watched an agent carelessly murder our neighbor, shooting her multiple times for peacefully protecting her neighbors. Amidst the tragedy of her death. we have no choice but to continue to do exactly what Renée was doing that morning: compassionately reinforcing our commitment to one another, even in the face of increasing fascist violence.
We must remember, oppression rages hardest when it is most desperate. As Gramsci reminds us “the old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born. Now is the time of monsters”.
The good news is that abolition is everywhere. Look around you! It lives in the art and the people who’ve chosen to come out on the coldest of days. It occurs in a trip to the grocery store for your neighbor too scared to leave their home, in caring for a child whose parents have been kidnapped, in keeping lookout to make sure students can safely attend school, or in making a meal for loved ones assaulted by law enforcement. The opportunity for care is endless amidst so much dehumanizing cruelty. We invite you to reflect on what abolition means to you and ask that you make an act of care each day, during this occupation and beyond. Think of the butterflies. Huddle close and share your warmth. It is only together that we’ll make it through these coldest of winter nights.