Carbon Copy

Chicago

Okay, so I can't help it. EVERY time I think of Chicago, I think of this dumb line by the mailman in A River Runs Through It: "Chicken in a car; car won't go; that's how they spell, Chi-car-go." I know, I know. It's so lame. But it's stuck nonetheless. So as we got in the car that Tuesday morning, I just had to say it. Anyway, there it is online now, too.

So Chicago: After making our way through abominable traffic and construction around Gary, Indiana, we pulled into the city. Have to admit I was a little anxious about driving in the big city. I've never really driven in one before, but it turned out fine. We passed the Magnificent Mile and went straight on to the campus of Northwestern. I had visited there about 7 years ago when I stayed with Anna. I remembered the spray-painted rocks on the shores of Lake Michigan, so I wanted to relive that experience.

There was even a message that I like to think was really written just for me.

We snuck around the campus a bit, peaking in at the chapel in the Theology building.

And stopped for a bit to enjoy the serene atmosphere of the Shakespeare Garden adjacent to the chapel.

We decided to write a little message on the garden leaves for those that followed. I suggested Yeats, "Though leaves are many, the root is one." It seemed appropriate. It ended up being, "Tho leaves R many, the root is one" due to space constriction, but I think Yeats would approve of the aesthetic changes.

Self-portraits ensued.

(I don't know what that face really means, but I seem to make it quite often.)

And then we went back to the car, where I had received a citation for parking in the wrong parking lot. I don't think it will matter, though. I mean, it's not like I need my diploma or anything (which is why I had to pay my three parking tickets acquired at USU before I left). At least, I hope not.

Then back down Lake Shore for some time at the Art Institute of Chicago, after stopping in a little shop for some gyros. Little bit of luck - it was Free Tuesday at the Institute. Couldn't ask for anything better than that. Something I liked to do this time while I was looking at paintings was take pictures of some of the small details rather than the whole. I've uploaded some of them.

Hmm... looking back over these details, I'm sensing a theme. Can you tell I tend to relate to feelings of isolation? Probably especially right now. It hits home.

There was also an installation by Felix Gonzalez-Torres of hundreds of cellophane-wrapped pieces of candy lined up and sparkling under the lights. While contemplating this exhibit, a man came up and took a piece. At first, we looked at each other in disbelief, shock, and admiration at his chutzpah, but then we found out later that patrons were encouraged to take some because it symbolized the artist's diminishing body. So when we each took a piece (mine falling awkwardly back on the floor) the girls who had just walked in the room looked at us with the same expression of disbelief we had earlier felt. There was also a large stack of paper, so I took one of those pieces. Not only did we get in for free, but we got to take art out with us.

After a couple hours at the Institute, we walked down Michigan Ave, people-watching and city-watching.

The buildings are tall in Chicago. And some people have to wash the windows. Like this guy:

After paying enormous amounts of money to get my car out of parking, we drove around a bit and ended up on the concrete shore of Lake Michigan where we chilled with some seagulls, our feet hanging over the edge, sometimes splashed with water. I didn't bring my camera to this part of the day, and afterwards, I was disappointed because I liked the way the concrete terraced down and the corrugated texture that imprinted into my hand as I leaned back. I liked the whiteness of it, the city to my left and turbulent waters ahead. I liked people riding their bikes and sitting there feeding the seagulls. I liked chatting and feeling confused about things.

And then we decided to find something to eat. While we were hoping for Indian food, after getting lost and feeling conspicuously white, we found a sushi place. I had never gone for sushi before, and since Chicago was making me feel adventurous, I thought, "What the hell, might as well try it." Then we got the menu, and I was faced with eel, crab, lobster, and all sorts of stuff that I don't really like, but I settled on tuna and avocado rolls. The tuna was raw, but it was good. I enjoyed my first sushi experience, despite the techno blaring.

To round out the night, we ascended to the heights of the Sears Tower for nighttime views of the city and a little history mixed in. The elevator girl liked my Blonde Redhead shirt.

Here are the lights cut off by the black mass of Lake Michigan:

And here they stretch on over Illinois (with the reflection of the skydeck included):

And then we left and paid about $5 in tolls back to Indiana, using up a cupholder full of change (except the pennies). Steve fell asleep on the way back home, and I was all excited to find my way to my house on my own and surprise him with my sense of direction. Unfortunately, he woke up just as I was making a wrong turn and had to correct me. He's so damn smug.