Category: Minneapolis

Gratitude on the Last Day of Pride

Bill Hendricks sitting on rocks overlooking the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco, 1976, wearing puka shell necklaces and smiling into the camera. The photograph accompanies a reflection on gratitude, authenticity, and Pride.
San Francisco, 1976. Looking back at a younger version of myself—and feeling grateful for all the people who helped me become the person I am today.

Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone.

—Maya Angelou, Alone

On this last day of Pride, I’ve been thinking about gratitude.

Looking back at this photograph from San Francisco in 1976, it’s pretty obvious I wasn’t trying to blend in.

Over the years, so many people looked beyond appearances and gave me the chance to learn, to serve, to teach, to create, and simply to become myself.

I’m grateful to my parents, my sister, and especially the Reid family, who became part of my chosen family. I’m grateful to my commanding officers in the Air Force, my professors, employers, colleagues, students, volunteers, and friends. I’m grateful to Minneapolis College, MCAD, Minneapolis Friends Meeting, and to Michael, who has walked beside me through it all.

None of us gets where we are alone. My life has been shaped by people who chose encouragement over fear, curiosity over judgment, and kindness over assumption.

As Pride Month comes to a close, thank you. You helped make my life possible.

Related post: This reflection continues many of the themes I explored in my recent post, Reflections on Collective Z.

A Living Room Church

A Living Room Church

A personal memory about beginnings, community, and what history sometimes forgets.

Whimsical ink and watercolor drawing with a cross, house-like forms, curling vines, small figures, and a soft blue-violet wash suggesting shelter, spirit, and community.
**Dr. Seuss’s Heaven** — A tribute to Dr. Seuss, mixed media on paper, 2005 (approx. 6 × 9 in.) — A small drawing about the rhythm of life

 

There are stories that get polished over time, and stories that quietly disappear.

I’ve carried one of those quieter stories for years.

Long before MCC became what it is in Minnesota, there was a small gathering of us — a core group of gay men and friends trying to build spiritual community when such spaces were rare.

The original services were held in our living room on the 3400 block of Pillsbury Avenue South in Minneapolis.

Word spread by mouth. People came. We worshiped weekly. There were picnics, gatherings, friendship, and a real sense that something important was being born. The worship had a Catholic tone. It was heartfelt, searching, and deeply communal.

There were many involved — names I remember, and names I’ve lost — but I remember the spirit clearly.

Then life moved on. Michael and I joined the Air Force, and I was stationed in California. MCC continued to grow. It moved beyond our living room, then into other spaces, eventually finding a home at the Minneapolis Friends Meeting House.

That was also how I first encountered Quakerism — another thread that would shape my life.

I’ll admit: over the years I sometimes felt forgotten, as though those early beginnings had faded from memory. But memory is a tricky thing. Institutions grow, stories simplify, and humble beginnings can disappear into history.

What remains for me is gratitude that I got to witness — and in some small way help hold — the beginning of something that mattered.

And I was deeply happy to see it grow.

Minneapolis Walkways Need to be Safe

Minneapolis Sidewalk Accessibility Matters

Hi, I am sharing this article I wrote about the condition of our Minneapolis walkways. I hope this helps spark conversations that continue and lead to real solutions for this citywide problem.

https://www.startribune.com/municipal-sidewalk-shoveling-debate-mpls-accessibility/601548203

I am grateful that the Star Tribune published my commentary. As I grow older, this is becoming a greater concern. After 15 years in NYC, I am a walker. You see so much and learn a lot.

If you can’t access the article, you can find the text in my Google Docs: Winter Walkways — And Pedestrian’s Access.

Walking Reflection — November 4

A digital collage blending red, gold, and pink autumn leaves with soft branches and floral forms. The composition feels like a playful romp with color, echoing the joy and energy of fall.
Autumn Layers — digital collage inspired by the color and rhythm of autumn.

Autumn Colors

This fall, on my walks, I’ve been amazed by the color — soaking it in, just appreciating the ability to gaze upon such beauty.

As beautiful as the colors of spring and summer are — spring with its bright yellow-greens and lupines in pinks and violets, and summer with its deeper greens and the bright yellows of marigolds or the reds of geraniums and pinks of coneflowers — not to mention the purples and blues of delphiniums — I love them too.

But autumn colors speak to me differently. There’s an excitement, a passion in them that touches my soul.

I often collect leaves and set them in my studio to inspire me — to try and equal the wonderful harmony of fall colors. This year, I decided to play as the Creator once did, and create an image — a playful collage of color, built from photographs taken along the way.

Bill Hendricks

Started with a Walk and a Photograph

Related: Minnesota DNR Fall Color Finder — a live map of color across the state and information about the 2025 season.

Cogs / The Living Machine — Process & Reflections

The 80/20 Principle

A vibrant abstract illustration depicting interconnected pipes, gears, and curved forms in vivid hues of orange, teal, and gold. The composition suggests a mechanical system that feels alive — forms overlap and flow with depth and rhythm, evoking the idea of consciousness and structure emerging from chaos.
Cogs / The Living Machine

While refining the work, I recalled a lesson I often shared with my students: the 80/20 principle. You can always keep working and perfecting, but there’s a point where the essence is present — where the piece is alive and coherent. This artwork marks that balance: form and meaning are clear without endless revision.

transformation and renewal — how structure and energy evolve through process.