Last night I went to the Delorean & Miike Snow show at the Metro. It was fantastic. I enjoyed myself immensely. It was pouring rain when we parked and went in, my feet were aching at the end of the night, and a couple of guys started arguing in the middle of one of my favorite songs. I asked them to stop, and they did. These are the things that make a show, outside of the music itself, of course. If you don’t know who these bands are…check them out. Trust me.
In other news, Nineteen Months has been updated for the month of “Glory“. I am SO impressed with the talent involved in this project. Check it out, tell your friends! You can also join our Facebook page or add us on Twitter.
The story behind my photo: I was approaching the deadline, on my lunch break, and worried that I had nothing to contribute. After failing to capture anything that I liked by Lake Michigan or in the gardens of the Baha’i House of Worship, I went into the lower level of the House of Worship to say hi to friends. One lovely lady and her daughters were there, and as their mother worked on some things, I had a change to talk to the girls and take photos. Elsie, the littler one, insisted on seeing the photos after I took her picture. She is really rather young, but already knows about cameras. It made my day to see such lovely children, and I got my photo.
This coming weekend is the Religion Communication Congress, in which several Baha’is and publications will be receiving awards. I have several friends attending, and I can’t WAIT to hear their stories. I’ll also be reuniting with one of my dear friends that I served with in Haifa…she and I have some catching up to do!
Finally, I updated my blog layout. The previous one was rather awkward and this one is much cleaner. I also added a contact page.
I stepped outside and the air smelled like (home), like stone paths, the bay, flowers, and a breeze off the mountains and desert that lifts you up…
Warm and cool, the kind of cool that only requires a light sweater. Full of excitement. The gardeners watering plants as I walked up the mountain, past the wall of flowers, the silent woosh of doors as I stepped into the cool stone corridors.
The kind of morning where I would bounce into work, 8:30 am, ready to do what I was meant to do.
It is a little different here, this new home, my new place. My car transports me to work past elegant Victorian homes, antique shops, schools, and the train. The streets are wider, and I can’t see the water from here (but I know it is close). After the last few years of being able to sense the water nearby, it seems odd to ever consider living away from water again. Whether the Mediterranean or Lake Michigan, it seems right to base my orientation on the water.
I wanted to hold onto the feeling of a Haifa morning today, just walk with my eyes closed, pretend that I was still there. Pretend that the stones were digging through the thin soles of my shoes, that my flatmates and I were rushing out of our apartment to get to work (service), that I would walk up a flight of stairs to the lunchroom at 12 pm and the same old crew would be sitting at a big table. That I would take a walk around the Arc with a friend, would stop by the Food Center for an afternoon snack, and walk/slide down the steep slopes at the end of a long day to pray in the Shrine of the Bab before going home. Every late night conversation with my friends, staring out over the lights of a city on the mountain.
This is Chicago, though, I am half a world away and this is life, now. Some things are the same, and I still drink too much caffeine during the day, and I am working in a job that I love. This is my life, now. I don’t write or speak using British English anymore, I’ve reverted back to American. There are no hills or mountains here.
I am holding close the feeling of a Haifa morning, and feel grateful that I remember what it feels like.
It seems like I spend a lot of time snapping photos, editing, and posting. I try to post photos within a week of taking them, mostly because I feel like it is a waste to just keep them on my hard drive where no one can see them.
Nylon Parla has had two themes posted in the last few months: “Festive” for the Baha’i month of Honor, and “Cold” for the Baha’i month of Sovereignty. I’m in awe of the talent of the photographers that I work with, and having a lot of fun in the process of being challenged to take photos according to the theme assignment.
I went to the Shedd Aquarium on Monday for the first time in many years.
Since it was a free day AND Martin Luther King Jr Day, there were a lot of kids. Kids in strollers, kids screaming & running around, kids pressed up against the glass, kids with cameras…you get the picture.
My friends looked at me funny when said I wanted to hug the giant fish. I guess I find strange things cute.
The problem with the Aquarium is that you have to pay extra to see some of the cooler stuff, and we just didn’t have the time or patience to do it. I have discovered that I much prefer the Art Institute and the Field Museum…more to see for the cost of a ticket.
I am still here.
In silence with the water forming lakes around my boots,
with the golden red leaves forming islands around my feet.
I am…in a few places at once.
With tall buildings, cold people, fascinating streets
(that dream is farther away now, diminishing every week).
In warm sunshine where we bowed our heads
always, always among the cool stone and cypress trees
(I will never leave)
Among these people, this place, my home, the familiar roads
at first, breathless, dormant, unmoving
and now,
and now…
this is where I should be.
After several years of desperately wanting a digital SLR camera, I finally gave in and bought a Canon EOS 1000D.
I am having fun, and I actually do carry it everywhere with me. Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to take a ton of photos and really play with the camera, but I’m learning slowly, and luckily I’m surrounded by some patient photography-inclined friends who are willing to explain things to me.
I’m loving what I can do with these close-up shots, I took a whole series of photos at the Garfield Park Conservatory the other day (which, by the way, is fantastic, and FREE). It was a bee day, so there were people explaining bees, little kids running around, and honey tasting.
My problem is now that my photos are often better than they used to be, so I have trouble deciding which ones to post. I want to post all of them!
1. Gluten-free sugar cookies dipped in chocolate pudding are heavenly.
2. Aprons never fit me correctly. I always have to adjust them, which makes me ignore them altogether. But I really like the idea of an apron.
3. Driving a car means fixing it when parts wear out. Which means that my bank account complains to me of abuse. It also means that I have to deal with mechanics, which is always a funny experience because I really don’t know anything about cars.
4. An advantage to living in Chicago: there are always visitors coming through. It helps alleviate the missing-of-friends that happens when you are part of a community that is always moving across the world.
5. Really looking forward to the weekend. Work picnic, family, home. I desperately needed a 3 day break, and was kidding myself that I am not tired. I’m exhausted.
6. I had a few friends over the other night to help me finish off a tray of lasagna that I made. I highly recommend having a lasagna party, and close it out with ice cream or pudding if you can.
7. I really missed seeing live music over the last few years. It had been such a long time. Going to Summerfest and seeing Stevie Wonder & John Legend in concert was absolutely fantastic, and I need to take advantage of these opportunities.
8. I’m on my 6th wedding invitation of the year, and we’re only halfway through! Whew…
It is two places now, where I am and where I was. It is pieces of memories that float to the surface with no warning and leave me gasping for breath.
It is silence in the Mother Temple when I close my eyes and pretend that I am in the Shrines, or standing on the sea wall, or walking down broken stone paths. I am still near the water, but instead of a warm sea I swim in the cold lake, instead of gardens I am stand in concrete city landscapes.
One year.
So much and so little has changed. There is a little more knowledge behind my eyes, a little more heaviness in my sighs, more smiles and more quiet. There is less need to be here and there and everywhere at once.
Work happens every day from 8 am-5 pm, Monday through Friday, just like I prayed for. Last night I signed a short lease for a place to rest my head at night, and a closet for my clothes. Resigned and happy.
I miss you and you and you and you and you and most especially you.
In between places and time are the photographs, the Saturday morning brunches, the days upon days at Bahji, the Friday afternoon soccer matches, Thursday nights that were never-ending, Monday’s game night and dinner, Tuesday farewells to the pilgrims, and praying my way down the mountain.
Home is a jumbled mess of prairie grass, the call to prayer, the flat roads, the mountain stairs, a million flowers, snow, sand, sky and no starlight. Haifa and Chicago.
These last few weeks have really done a number on me. I finished up my work helping organize the 3rd Annual Baha’i Choral Festival at the Baha’i House of Worship. The Festival was wonderful, you can read about it here, and watch the hour-long performance here. (There were readings as well, but had to be cut out of the DVD.) Then I moved over into another job, which is quite fun and keeps me very busy. I’m only 4 days into it, and already feeling a bit like I did a year ago, right before International Convention.
I live out of suitcases and my car, my friends’ couch and my parent’s home. My work is so far from home that commuting is painful. But I get to see my friends a lot more now, and being in the city is wonderful.
On the continuing theme of my clumsiness, I knocked over a glass last weekend, and promptly sliced my finger open as I tried to rescue it. Luckily it wasn’t too bad, and thank God for medication.
I went to a lovely wedding this past weekend. That, combined with several friends visiting from out of town and the usual weekend festivities, created the deadly combination of no sleep, crazy meal schedules, and getting nothing done on my to-do list. My poor to-do list is feeling quite neglected.
Twitter was sending me into a spiral of distraction, so 9 days ago I took a break. I don’t really miss it, and I’ve stopped thinking in terms of tweets. Maybe when things settle back down I’ll get into it again, but right now I’m enjoying the silence.
We went for a walk on Sunday near the river, and I found my frog prince (ok, he is a toad, but the principle applies). Unfortunately, he did not change into a human being.
Mr. Toad was quite adorable, however. Just look at him!
Last night I went salsa dancing for the first time in nearly 3 years. I couldn’t believe it has been that long.
And then I stepped out on the dance floor, and it was painfully obvious that not only was I very rusty, but woefully untutored. Thankfully, the majority of the people that I danced with were very good, gave me lots of tips, and were quite patient. I learned more last night than I have in years.
However, one individual was particularly self-involved. Sporting a suit and greased-back hair, he thought that he was an exceptional dancer. No interest in being a good dance partner, he really just wanted to show off. Unfortunately, he got a little enthusiastic, and ended up kicking my leg. Very, very painful.
As I hobbled away, I found my friends, who are regulars on the salsa scene. When I told them what had happened, they started laughing. Apparently this guy is rather…infamous. haha. Well, I’ve been initiated, I guess!
Outside of that rather amusing incident, it was fun and I’m glad I went. Even though I’m limping today.
Superbowl Sunday in the United States tends to be a day that people have parties, eat lots of junk food, and are glued to their flatscreen televisions to watch American football.
On Saturday night I went to a friend’s house for a lady’s night/sleepover. It was fantastic, of course, and when we woke up this morning we made ourselves a feast of eggs, hash browns, and pancakes.
After spending a lazy Sunday around their apartment, we finally decided to get out of the apartment and get dinner. As we drove down the street, Emily, Juliette, Sarah, and I realized that our plan was very different than everyone else’s. We were going to Whole Foods, dressed quite nicely, and were going to watch “All About Eve”, a classic film. Our dinner consisted of very healthy items, including fruit. I know, crazy, right?
I must say that we managed to successfully avoid the testosterone-laden events of the day. It really was not a planned thing, but I am very happy with the outcome. Thank you, ladies.
It is quieter when the world around is blanketed with snow. The house is silent, my family asleep, and I am considering the pros and cons of going to bed in the next half hour.
This morning, as I stepped outside into a world turned white by frozen precipitation, I realized that getting my car out of the driveway was going to be so much fun. My car has a few things to equip me for the winter months:
1. A ice scraper/snow brush (mine looks like this, mostly).
2. A blanket/extra coat in case your car runs out of gas or gets stuck somewhere.
3. A few pieces of cardboard (I learned this trick a few weeks ago when my car got stuck in snow…put them under the tires, and voila!).
4. Bottled water
5. After doing some mental inventory, I realize that I also have a tripod, a mouse for a computer, sunglasses, cds, a book, and two extra pairs of shoes. Those items, however, have nothing to do with winter, and everything to do with the random nature of my life these days.
I got stuck at the bottom of the driveway, of course, and did not have time to shovel myself out. As I got out of the car to get the cardboard from the back, my neighbor came over and offered to push the car into the street. Whew! I had to repeat the process of getting the snow off of my car again tonight, but luckily did not get stuck again.
These are the mundane details of my life.
I went to a proper musical the other night, at a proper theatre. I think that the last time I did something like that was when my roommate in college got us tickets to the Lyric Opera House as my birthday gift.
We had two devotionals last week in our home. It was wonderful to spend time with so many lovely people…and of course there was a potluck dinner, which just makes everything better. My childhood memories are filled with evenings at our home with many people crowded into our living room, the chaotic and joyful dinners, prayers and Baha’i gatherings.
There was this man that we saw every day. He was neither young nor old, tall or short. Slightly balding, with a mustache, the kind of man that would blend into the background.
He walked up the four steps to his elderly mother’s house, sometimes with bags of groceries, unfailingly polite and slightly shy. The five women of our house knew who he was, but only one or two of us ever found out his name. He brought his mother outside, gently unfolding her wheelchair on the sidewalk and guiding her into it.
The old Italian neighborhood still looks the same. There is fresh paint on some of the houses, including ours (it is still “our” house, even though none of the original roommates are there). The prices have gone up at the old hot dog stand and there are new buildings over by the hospital, but the streets end in the same places and the sidewalk still leads to the train.
Wandering with a purpose. Even when I have nowhere in particular to go, I have a hard time sitting still. The idea of park benches and peaceful afternoons is appealing in theory, but in the five years of residence there seemed to be little opportunity.
Going back to the old haunts is too painful, still. There is too much attached to those places, little moments that eat away at me if I let them stay too long. Unwelcome guests, they settle in the corners of my brain.
I remember the clack clack of boots on city sidewalks, it is comforting to hear when there are hundreds of people swarming to get home or drown their sorrows or listen to the latest podcast or watch the football game or eat dinner or hug their three children.
Chicago in the rain and fog is a heartbreaking place, the buildings are stark and bright against the glow of sky. Invest in a warm coat and a strong heart, and a comfortable pair of shoes.
I thought I was going to escape Chicago without getting hit by cold weather or snow, but I was wrong. We awoke Friday to a world buried under inches of snow.
Check out these before and after pictures from Flickr that I found of Naperville’s Riverwalk.
My plans for that day to drive into the city for The Dawning Place Open Mic and spend time with friends were completely trashed, since the highways were clearly unsafe. My mother and I ended up spending the day cooking together like we did when I was young.
Saturday night was wonderful. Thanks to everyone who made it out here to my going-away party, I really appreciate it. It was a blast and the perfect way to leave.
I have one month until I leave for Haifa. December 6th.
The checklist continues to shrink. I have found a person to fill the spot in my house in Chicago, have gotten all of my paperwork done, purchased my plane ticket, and have begun packing my material possessions.
This is WAY more work than I thought it would be.
Somehow, over the last 2 years that I have resided in my house, I have accumulated a vast amount of stuff. Some of it is important stuff…my Baha’i library is something I am very happy about. (My parents have had a lot to do with making sure I have so many books!) I’m going to be living at my parent’s house for the next month, and that is where my stuff will be while I’m gone.
There are other things I’m realizing that I just don’t need. It feels really great to go through my life like this.
Preparation for Haifa is a strange process. I have had very little time by myself recently, so have not really thought about it. And honestly, I’m not going to get myself worked up over it. Yes, I’m moving to the Holiest place on Earth (to Baha’is), for 18 months, and it happens to be across the world, and I’m going to be doing a job that I am pretty sure that I will love.
There will be tests that come along with it, and people give me advice about Haifa (which I choose to listen to or ignore, whatever suits my fancy). But in the end, what it boils down to is that I am looking forward to the opportunity to have a job that I love, to work on my weaknesses and overcome tests. I’m excited about taking advantage of deepening classes, of all of the wonderful things I’m going to have access to there.
I’m eager to experience change, both inwardly and outwardly.
I’ve had the opportunity to be a bit of a tourist in my own town recently. I normally have a really hard time with tourists…they block sidewalks, gape at perfectly normal things (like the man painted silver on Michigan Avenue), and cut me off in traffic in completely unexpected ways. Resident Chicagoans are crazy drivers sometimes, but highly predictable.
ANYWAYS…I am really trying to take advantage of living here for as long as I can.
The train to HELL. As I like to call it…
oooh shiny…
Chess= AWESOME (by Millenium Park)
Relief by the river on Michigan Avenue
Lighthouse on Lake Michigan (taken by me on J’s camera)
It is amazing how much sunlight (or the lack thereof) can affect my mood. It has been gray, gray in Chicago (big surprise), and yesterday’s sudden sunlight made me goofy.
Ok, well, I can be goofy with no assistance, but…you know what I mean. In the late afternoon yesterday some friends and I were walking by the Lake and discovered a shiny new playground. I love playgrounds, and they’ve gotten a lot fancier since I was a kid. For a few minutes, I was just swinging in the air…no thought or reaction required. We should do these things more often.
The other night I was by Navy Pier at midnight…a large group of acquaintances and friends walking ahead of me. I looked up at the skyline of the city, foggy and misty with the remnants of rain, harsh lights softened by the moisture in the air. My recent restlessness was stilled for a moment by the knowledge of my city
certain streets
horrible diners
street performers
tucked-away parks
little italy, greektown
rush-hour avoidance
lake shore drive (how many times have I driven on that road in the last 5 years?)
The accumulated details about the place I live. No other city’s downtown has buildings that are tall enough for me. Everything I compare to Chicago.
These are the things that make a show, outside of the music itself, of course. If you don’t know who these bands are…check them out. Trust me.
