Almost 20 years ago, I bought a dilapidated house in a Saint Paul neighborhood bracketed by highways, rail yards, industry and warehouses. As a long-time freelance writer and editor, who loves working from home, I’d long aspired to be part of this little pocket of unassuming quirkiness and creativity, grass-roots activism and zealous gardening, diversity and acceptance, after renting in more neighborhoods than I can remember. Today, my house is still a work in progress, and my neighborhood continues to evolve.

Many of the working class families who made their living in nearby businesses are gone. Their houses— all structurally sound, with ancient furnaces, peeling exteriors, and the same aqua, pink and yellow walls throughout (some traveling salesman, long ago, was certainly thorough)—are being purchased and refreshed by people like myself: creatives, academics and other professionals as scrappy as our predecessors, and happy to live in a place that’s far from gentrified, where we all know one another.

We own our community garden. Our kids and pets play together. Several of my neighbors have keys to my house (just in case), and I have theirs. We eat together, share books, go kayaking, shovel one other out of snow banks, and help each out in a pinch. I’m sure you feel the same about your neighborhood. Mine feels like a small town in the middle of the city, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else in Minneapolis or Saint Paul.

Especially now. Who would have thought, almost 20 years ago, that our little ‘hood would become a Creative Enterprise Zone? On the new Central Corridor light-rail line, smack dab between Minneapolis and St. Paul? Or that I’d be the managing editor of an online publication that celebrates our creative economy, and the visionaries and innovators who are making our cities’ the most livable in the country?

Aspirations brought us to where we are today, the desire to revive and reinvigorate, be more sustainable, create and share. Three years ago, my predecessor, Jon Spayde, asked me out for coffee. He was editing a new online publication with a new approach to the new economy, and would I like to write for this groundbreaking publication? Now, 20 or so articles later, I’ll do my best to follow in Jon’s remarkable footsteps, while aspiring to break still more new ground with stories that delve into the conundrums confronting our efforts to make urban life more livable, healthy, sustainable and equitable.

My aspirations for The Line are to also embrace all of the topics I know and love. As an arts journalist living in the Twin Cities for more than 20 years, I’ve written about architecture, engineering, and development; dance, theater, music, and visual arts; gardening and landscape preservation; business and education. I’ve edited an architecture magazine, a prairie restoration publication, and the arts section of a city monthly—where I first met The Line’s terrific publisher Dena Alspach.

The Line will continue to celebrate the remarkable places, entrepreneurs, educators, visionaries, businesses, architects, developers, artists, innovators and initiatives shaping our cities today. I’ve seen many aspirations come to fruition: Minneapolis and Saint Paul turning their attention back to the Mississippi River; the University of Minnesota building on its technology and design foundations to demonstrate innovative leadership in both; and world-class architecture housing world-class arts organizations. What’s next that The Line should cover?

On a smaller but no less critical scale are the small galleries, makers groups, restaurants and coffee shops, creative firms, dance and theater companies, craft breweries, and small retail shops popping up all over—the building blocks of vitality in neighborhoods like my own. Which are your favorites? Who do you know with a great idea, product or business that’s been realized? Where do you hang out in the city? What makes your neighborhood unique? I’d really like to know.

What are your aspirations for The Line? Who and what would you love to learn more about? Do you have a story idea? I’d love to hear it. Feel free to reach out to me via email at [email protected], The Line's Facebook page or on Twitter. If you see me out and about, please say hello. Better yet, tell me about your neighborhood. I’ll meet you there.