Small Town Wren

The Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago opened to the public today. As a member, I got to see it yesterday, and boy am I glad I made it out. It’s phenomenal! Daniil and I made a day of it, and I’m really glad he insisted we see it first since the line wrapped around the special exhibit balcony by the time we left.

The photograph above, labeled as Hyères, France, 1932, was one of our favorites from the collection. I’d seen several of his photos before as a number of them belong to MoMA and The Met in New York City, including this one. But it really caught Daniil’s eye as well. As I would discover over the course of the afternoon, he is really intrigued by the use of lines in art. I, however, am more about motion and what’s not in the frame. We spent the afternoon guessing how each other felt about each photo.

The portion of portraits was one of my favorite parts of the exhibit. It makes me jealous because of all the cool people I will never know that he captured. Such as Truman Capote.

And Albert Camus.

And Ezra Pound.

Cartier-Bresson is one of my favorite photographers, and he shot almost exclusively in black & white. An admirable commitment for a modern man such as himself.

I highly recommend it. The man travelled far and wide as a photojournalist. I was lucky to have a native Russian give his own opinions on the Soviet Union portion. The photographs from newly Communist China are also breathtaking. If you can make it, go.

BIG BANG BIG BOOM – the new wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

So Ravelry was having a big search party with prizes last week. And I actually won one of the prizes. Say what? I never win anything! I’m the big loser of my family, of my friends, of the universe!

So I’ve got a lot of knitting books and yarns coming my way soon. Which I’m pretty psyched about. Now just to figure out what to knit for who!

Saturday night was the Chicago L.A.T.E. Ride, which I am happy to report I biked in its entirety. 25 miles isn’t a long ride, but it’s now the longest I’ve done in a single day. My previous record was only 15. There were a few moments where it felt like I wasn’t going to make it, I did so with flying colors and only a few injuries, and only having birds shit upon me twice. Yeah, whut? I’m not sure why I was the particular moving target for all the birds, but I ended up with scat on me from all directions. Ugh.

I went with quite a few friends. We ended up all feasting on Silk afterward, a product endorsed enthusiastically by Howard and me. And the sunrise was absolutely gorgeous, if not a bit skewed by clouds. I’m glad that only Daniil saw me have the mos disgraceful dismount from a bicycle ever. I banged up my leg pretty well on my pedal. But hey, my bike is a beast. It’s apparently the heaviest bike ever and gets more momentum than anything on hills.

The eggs benedict afterward was amazing, even if Pick Me Up was strangely out of hollandaise sauce. The drive home was not so fun. Was starting to fall asleep in the end there. Bed couldn’t have come soon enough at 9:30 Sunday morning.

This year was the year of the Never-Ending Birthday. A solid week and a half of celebrations.

If I include every single thing that I did that I don’t normally do, this included: bowling, billiards, dancing, drinking (heavily), milkshakes, icecream, icecream cake, long-lost friends, long-lost dates, movies, swimming, hiking, dunes, baking, more baking, cake, soup, wine, wine, wine, heels, driving, trains, boys, girls, fake-lesbians, creepy dudes, free drinks, birthday crowns, birthday hugs, end-of-school hugs, end-of-school tears, smiles, new buddy games.

Oof. Pardon me while I recover.

Forgive me, Father. It has been one month since we last spoke. I do not wish to relive that day, but I must, and I have.

A little boy died one month ago yesterday and I learned of it one month ago today. He was a small ray of sunshine in my last summer and during this school year. He made me smile often and he was among the small group of children who was there when I got to play the Tooth Fairy last year. He was a student in my friend Megan’s first grade class. She’s a great teacher; she was lucky to have him.

On the one month anniversary of his passing, I had the terrible displeasure of erasing him from the summer school database. I wiped him out of our 2010 records, and that hurt me greatly. Today, I wrote his parents a note warning of the cold, heartless refund they will be receiving from me shortly. I could not bare for that check to arrive, a shocking reminder of what they have lost–what we have all lost–without some kind words. A weak attempt to soften news that can only be hard and sharp.

I miss him. While it’s true that he was not the most present child in my life, he was still there. And his absence is still noticed. And it will continue to be noticed this entire summer when the classes he was registered for–likely only days before that terrible one–will go on without him.

He was seven and he died and no one can say why. A healthy, happy little boy went from playing and laughing in one moment, to being missing the next. It’s as though a cruel game of Hide and Seek was started, and where this sweet child hid is a place none of us can save him from. He just slipped away when no one and everyone was watching.

Forgive me, Father. I have erased him, though I did not want to. Forgive me. Our records are too simplistic to keep students not attending classes in them. Forgive me. I am the only one who maintains them, who knows how. Forgive me. It is cruel that I have gotten to live as I have when he will never grow up. Forgive me. Forgive me.

Forgive me.

Camping at Devil’s Lake was an absolute blast. While some of our hiking was less than ideal in that we got a little lost and ended up scrambling down a vertical boulder field, it was all-in-all a successful trip. I felt a little unsteady in my new Keens (still too used to being barefoot) so Daniil convinced me to screw the shoes and play out on the cliff outcrop with him. It’s a shame the pictures of Daniil, Erica, and me from here were never posted. Ah well.

In places where the consequences of falling weren’t quite as dire, I ventured out in the shoes.

Others, such as Daniil, were far braver than I. Granted, they have far more rock climbing experience than me. Both Daniil and Hannes made it all the way to top of Devil’s Doorway. They were the Crazy Foreigner Contingent of the trip.

Photos courtesy of Hannes van Rooyen and Daniil the Russian.

I’m off to Devil’s Lake for a weekend of hiking and camping. Naturally, going rock climbing with the gang was the obvious choice for a pre-camping gear up.

Photo courtesy of Daniil the Russian.

Friday brought an exciting adventure to the city, despite my BFF ladydate cancelling on me. Always a tragedy. But all was remedied by the latest mainstage brought to you by the Neo-Futurists, CRISIS!: The Musical Game Show.

What a fun little adventure that was. While I was sad I didn’t make the cut to be a contestant, the whole evening proved to be excellent. If having eyes made at me by multiple cute girls is any indication to how the night went, well it be that! The winner of our night’s show was a very brave soul who spoke at some length about her experience as a transwoman, which of course prompted discussion among my male companions. I had to have a talking to them about how their “so brave and I support but ew ew ew” comments were not really supportive.

As sad as it is, I can’t really blame them. I know I still say really stupid and wrong things, and I’ve dated a transman and had a couple friends transition the other way. So for two heterosexual white males with no experience with the trans community, I guess I should be happy with what I got. Not that it makes it right, but it’s better than it could be. Also, I’m sure I said something else really stupid in this paragraph alone, which I sincerely apologize for and assure I meant no harm.

Back on track: Headed over to Rock Bottom with Michelle, Jeff, and Joe. I somehow wound up drinking three margaritas. This somehow lead to drinking wine until 7:30 in the morning at Michelle’s. None of us are sure when we decided this was a good idea. It was nice to see the sun rise; it’s been a long time for all of us.

Joe and I headed to Reggie’s to see his friend’s band, Under None, play, and to meet up with Kevin. This was a smashing success, led to some G&T’s and a SoCo Lime shot. However, my shirt broke. Yes. Broke. And suddenly my right boob was hanging out of my shirt (let’s all be thankful I was actually wearing underthings). This lead to lots of leering by creepy old dudes and yet another instance where I’ve had to pretend to be a male friend’s girlfriend to keep them off. Sigh.

The other instance being the previous night when some drunk dude in a dive so awesomely asked if I belonged to Joe with a pretty offensive gesture. Yeah, that’s a way to win girls over. I don’t care how drunk you are; that’s not okay. So yea, you bet your ass I belong to him in that moment. I belong to everyone except you.

I wanted to prove to my mother that I totally wore my life jacket at one point, so there’s no need to spazz. I also totally helped paddle that canoe.

Ken is clearly the more friendly of the two of us.

But I’m way cuter, even if I am wearing a hideous and cheap life preserver.

See! I totally helped.

Photos courtesy of Daniil the Russian.