"you're accustomed to sorrow. it's part of your makeup. you speak the language of hunger. so do i..." -A.P.
back home on the farmstead, the fields sweep like a thousand acre ballrooms. i stand at the windbreak and can watch a storm approaching for hours. it's a kind of perfection; the reverent silence that i call home.
but in this - also a waiting game. a waiting and waiting game - always hoping for things to come.
the road is different. it's a leaving game, and leading.
and, it rinses me out.
i drove from minneapolis to madison with one hand out the window and canon ball feet. we stopped in madison for a spell and watched the sunlight literally bleeding itself across the ugliness and undeniable pulse of so much industry, leaving us to night. it was all sort of a dirty excitement that gathered us for the next 72 hours.
hails and i arrived in chicago at 1 or 2 am, and within 10 minutes of arriving at Palmer House, i was reminded that city is not my first language, with my sister being nearly pickpocketed in the elevator to our room and both of us being chased around an endless city block by a man that didn't know more than the smell of liquor and need. we ran from him both laughing and terrified. i remember thinking upon seeing him giving up his chase and returning to the shadowy corner of a silent and sleeping city, that being homeless outweighed my fear enough to where i almost wanted to wander back out into the night and hear his story. this was the case over and over again, during my stay, no matter where i was - watching lovers tucked into the tiniest moments or while i sipped tea in millennium park, soaking up my first rays of sun in nearly 8 months or some such.
the hotel was one of the most beautiful i've ever been in if you don't count the clientele and the $6 bananas. but the life in our room was incredible and the days since have been the same.
the rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of everything i yearn for:
as i wandered into cafes and people watched; always filled with a desire to wander with a sort of vibrant energy that stayed with me into the nights when i sat at the hotel room window, looking out over a cityscape of lives and lights that lead the way.
but, you know the thing with me is that lights tend to lead me away, further and further away. one of these days i'll be 'leaving to stay' like the song said that dad use to play.
photo taken in my hotel room in just about pitch black lighting. i'm sorry for the low blogspot quality that pulls just about everything apart. ;)
a design studio across the street so quaint & cool, seeing all of the clothing being made by art students...
a quick snapshot of state street from my room...
i have a ton of polaroids accumulating as well and a behind the scenes from my first shoot of the season over on the business blog. i will continue shooting and try to journal as well as scanning in new snaps that aren't digital.
for now i can see the clock is 20 minutes away from my 28th birthday and all i can do is smile.