It’s beginning to look a lot like toeshoes

Today we are at O’Hare airport for the third time in a week, part of the well-oiled 9591 Iris family pickup and delivery service.  Holiday decorations have been going up at the airport for a while now, and at the airport we ran across this one, my favorite so far this year: the Joffrey Ballet’s tree, adorned with pale-pink, actually used, autographed toeshoes.

We are a little part of the audience for Chicago’s big, adventurous, collegial dance community. Being in that audience has given us a lot of pleasure and a lot of opportunities to develop our taste and to make us think about the way we are in the world.

Being a dancer is hard.  You are an artist using your own body to create your art, and maintaining your physique to the relentless standards of world-class athletes, but without the luxury of  ever showing how demanding it all is. Here is one sign of that: even the shoes you wear are utterly destroyed after just a few hours.

This is to say thanks to the dancers here in Chicago, who offer so much to all of us.  You give yourselves over to your art – you become your art.  Thank you, now and all year.

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Rushing to Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is about giving thanks, but today is about rushing to the place where you can do that. Here we all are, dashing about in turmoil, our thoughts on the future. Maybe you are in transit right now. Maybe everyone is coming to you and you are mopping floors and cooking up a storm.  Maybe you are navigating a jam-packed grocery store for the third time in the past eight hours because you forgot the damn cranberries, again.  Maybe chance or choice means you are spending the day on your own, or in difficult circumstances, or far from the ones you care for the most.

One of the things I love best about Thanksgiving is that there is no ugly baggage around it, no praying, no presents, no politics. In my ideal world, we pass the day together with our dearest, and tell them how glad we are that they are in our lives, and hey, let’s eat!

This year, our Thanksgiving will be a bit different from our usual ones, but that is all right.  Times may not be perfect, but we are all healthy. We have so much to be grateful for, and one small part of that is that I can be here, to tell this to you.

Whatever you are doing this Thanksgiving, wherever you are heading today on the way to it, thanks for spending a couple of minutes here with me. I wish you the best from the bottom of my heart.

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Panic button Monday’s Disney princesses ask: excuse me, have you seen our girl?

Every time I push the panic button, this shows up.

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Rather than housework

I don’t know why we thought it would be cold and rainy.  This morning turned out to be beautiful.  Instead of doing 10,000 things around the house to prep for Thanksgiving, we threw on our coats and went down to the lakefront, where everything was clear and fresh and wide open.

Hardly anyone was at Montrose Harbor, to our surprise.  A couple of guys were fishing.  There were a few joggers.  Off to the north, dogs were lolloping around on the far side of the fence. One knot of people was standing on the fishhook pier, trying to spot the red-throated loon that has been burning up the listservs this weekend.  Farther out to the south, a sailing class was swooping around in little boats – practically the last leisure craft left in the water. We had our binoculars, but mostly they served as necklaces.  We were just walking, stopping, looking, looking at the blue-and-buff calm of it all.

Now we are back at home, heads down – washing floors, simmering stock, sorting through baffling stacks of what is all this.  But this morning, for a couple of hours, we had this.

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An evening at O’Hare

This evening we went out to O’Hare Airport to pick up my sister, who was coming back from a really swell vacation in the Northwest. O’Hare on a Saturday night is fairly bipolar: at once a bright, effective, ordinary machine chugging along with all the lights on; and a forlorn waiting room, its shiny gray expanses dotted here and there with irritated TSA and a few tired people waiting for the night’s last arrivals.  But, you know, even in a shiny gray cavern, there’s always something fun to look at, if you can find it.

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So Chicago to me

9591 iris has favorite places, and this is one of the most favorite: Federal Plaza in Chicago.  This picture was taken from an office on the second floor of the Marquette Building. To the left is the Everett Dirksen Courthouse; straight ahead you see the John C. Kluczynski Federal Building;  to the right is the Loop Station Post Office.  All three of these buildings – the flat, austere courthouse and offices, the low, sleek post office – were designed by Mies van der Rohe. All three!  This is part of our mental neighborhood. We are here almost every day, because we get our mail at the post office – more convenient than getting it at home, and we get to be in this cool little building nearly every day.  And in the middle of it all, graceful, massive, scarlet, seeming the most solid and free part of this shimmering wet place, is Calder’s 1974 Flamingo, one of the greatest public artworks in a city full of them.

I am here to tell you that Flamingo was commissioned by the Government Services Administration – thanks, US government! – and its unveiling was the culmination of a State Street parade hailing Calder himself, featuring clowns, unicyclists, marching bands, and Calder, too, riding on a Schlitz beer wagon drawn by 40 horses.  Name me another city that celebrates a major commission by a great living artist by throwing a big fat parade and hauling the artist around on a beer wagon. All of that is so Chicago to me.

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Panic Button Monday is just a pawn in your game

Every time I push the panic button, this shows up.

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Roll up the sleeves

Sometimes to build something better, or fix what’s been broken, you need to go through ugliness.

You may get frustrated.  There will be setbacks, anxiety, weariness.  And no rehab ever works right unless you get your own hands on it.

Keep at it.  Look how far we’ve got.

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We The People

Danh Vo’s  sculpture project We The People aims to reproduce the Statue of Liberty, as it was originally created – at full scale, in huge, thin, fragile copper fragments.  A few of these massive sections are at the Art Institute of Chicago’s Pritzker Garden right now.

Vo says of his life’s work, “I think of it as the range of what we can claim as freedom.”  We The People will never be assembled as a single reconstituted Statue of Liberty; instead, the elements will be sent around the world as fragments, always to be displayed separately. Yet these fragments will always be part of the whole – part of this powerful symbol.  Vo compares the work these dispersed pieces will do to a mission, or a virus, spreading the idea of liberty.

This photograph is of an ear, one monumental ear. I feel this was the most important part to show, today, Election Day, when we all speak up, when we all hope to be heard.

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Panic Button Monday says you know what to do

Every time I push the panic button, this shows up.

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