Our walks have been a good thing, and a habit I hope we re-introduce into our lives. While we have retreated from the world this last year, the world still exists. And I’m realizing how much more intention is needed, for us to interact with it.
While I initially viewed the sculpture as odd, I had an unexpectedly quick and visceral feeling of offense, when I found out it had been vandalized several times. I’m still not sure if I like it or not as a work of art, but apparently I’m protective of it?
Another day of longer commuting – this time, I got dropped off at Dune Park to catch an early train in to Chicago.
The Oriental Theater has had its name changed for well over a year now, but I’m still not quite used to it.
Unless you’re familiar with the piece, the video probably just seems like a lot of gibberish. And I guess it is, mostly. But I like trying to listen for the overlap, and like imagining the robotic voices are actually performing for us.
On my way home, I texted Liz that I was going to stop for some beer. After a bit, she then replied with a drink recipe that called for Ground Cherries (and also required some tequila).
Liz and I had errands and laundry plans for the night. But as I was leaving work, she called to let me know that there were some issues with the Metra Electric line.
Despite filing a service request with the city a few weeks ago, the street is just as bad after another heavy rain. Just as bad, or worse, even.
One thing I have yet to see in person: the use of actual fire on the tracks. Sadly, standing around inside Millennium Station, today was not that day.
There was a lot of changes on our street, when I got home after work. I’d heard that they would be doing some restoration work (replacing the curbs and repairing all the concrete along the street)… but I wasn’t quite prepared to see the state of the street.
On my way in to work this morning, I saw this at my Metra stop. I immediately muttered to myself “That’s not right.”
Spotted this while walking home with Liz the other day. Once more, my heart is breaking with the knowledge that somewhere, a child is still waiting and hoping for Bobo’s safe return.
It’s no small amount of water, so to have it rush down here, pool and swirl around, and then just seemingly disappear is kind of baffling. I kept expecting it to overflow and rush out, but it just gets here and… goes away.
There are two huge mounds on either side of our driveway, and a heavy, metal plate lining our driveway to the street. Guessing there’s a sizable hole underneath there.
I like the approach here – it’s definitely subtle, understated. The yellow on black text of “LIT” catches your eye, but not in an obnoxious way. It’s ambiguous enough to pull you in, to want to read a little more.