Tapestry
Despite my sometimes stupefying inability to pay attention, I never really get bored. If you take the time to pay attention to any given situation or setting, it's not overly difficult to find entertainment in nearly limitless portions. The world supplies us with an unlimited supply of scenes left and right, each worthy of your attention. It's all just a matter of opening your mind to your surroundings. You can do it if you try.
Chicago provides me with the wonderful opportunities to be active in a primarily empty environment (like walking through Lincoln Park), or to sit around and do nothing at all in the midst furious human activity (like reading a newspaper in Daley Plaza). This scene is fairly common in all organized metropolitan areas, but I think my city pulls it off the best.
There is a color and lightness to things here that is very singular to American cities. At times, on many streets throughout the city, you almost (just almost) feel like you could be in a European semi-urban area. Though speckled with taller buildings, the majority of North Side neighborhoods have remained true to the townhouse style of residential living. This factor permits a terrific feeling to this place, as it allows for trees to line bright and airy streets.
Life is just a matter of executing a series of small movements in order to effect a minute alteration to our surroundings. From that perspective, the world around us is just as important as we are. Sensory is reality. Fucking with sensory is terrific, and this place is my great backdrop.
They say, "The wind isn't really that bad." This is mostly true unless you are in the downtown high-rise district, as well as any time between January and December. It gets windy here--no dout about it. It makes drinking not just the typical adventure, but an additional winter-long battle against frostbite.
They also say, "It's this cold in (insert the name of any other northern city)." Given the wind factor, it gets colder than I wish I knew. You basically cannot feel your body when the windchill hits single digits, and that hurts like a mofo. Screw Buffalo and Montreal.
We like to tell ourselves, "It's really fucking cold for May!" which is eternally coupled with, "I can't believe it's this warm into October." You must bundle up for the first 1/4 of the baseball season, but you'll get a nasty sunburn at the start of the football season. It's been that way for as long as I can remember, yet people always seem surprised by it. We just tell ourselves these things to keep our underdressed selves active during a typically frigid spring afternoon. Is everybody retarded or what?
So, that's my basic tapestry. At this moment, the weather is getting nice. Winter sucks, so I tend to take it easy. Summer rocks, and I tend to take it too far.
Chicago provides me with the wonderful opportunities to be active in a primarily empty environment (like walking through Lincoln Park), or to sit around and do nothing at all in the midst furious human activity (like reading a newspaper in Daley Plaza). This scene is fairly common in all organized metropolitan areas, but I think my city pulls it off the best.
There is a color and lightness to things here that is very singular to American cities. At times, on many streets throughout the city, you almost (just almost) feel like you could be in a European semi-urban area. Though speckled with taller buildings, the majority of North Side neighborhoods have remained true to the townhouse style of residential living. This factor permits a terrific feeling to this place, as it allows for trees to line bright and airy streets.
Life is just a matter of executing a series of small movements in order to effect a minute alteration to our surroundings. From that perspective, the world around us is just as important as we are. Sensory is reality. Fucking with sensory is terrific, and this place is my great backdrop.
They say, "The wind isn't really that bad." This is mostly true unless you are in the downtown high-rise district, as well as any time between January and December. It gets windy here--no dout about it. It makes drinking not just the typical adventure, but an additional winter-long battle against frostbite.
They also say, "It's this cold in (insert the name of any other northern city)." Given the wind factor, it gets colder than I wish I knew. You basically cannot feel your body when the windchill hits single digits, and that hurts like a mofo. Screw Buffalo and Montreal.
We like to tell ourselves, "It's really fucking cold for May!" which is eternally coupled with, "I can't believe it's this warm into October." You must bundle up for the first 1/4 of the baseball season, but you'll get a nasty sunburn at the start of the football season. It's been that way for as long as I can remember, yet people always seem surprised by it. We just tell ourselves these things to keep our underdressed selves active during a typically frigid spring afternoon. Is everybody retarded or what?
So, that's my basic tapestry. At this moment, the weather is getting nice. Winter sucks, so I tend to take it easy. Summer rocks, and I tend to take it too far.
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