It has been too long since my last update, apologies. I have been fairly busy with all kinds of amazing stuff- none of which involves getting a job. But I can now say I've been to the coast, hiked Cape Lookout, tried SUPing (stand up paddleboarding), been to a local beach, biked over a bridge, gone to a brew fest, slapped someone in the face (for fun), drank from a (glass) boot played a game called "hide the ceramic puppy," learned a bit of Portuguese, went to a county fair, and so much more.
I found a bar that has skeeball, a free jukebox, 4 man Pac-Man, and photohunt that takes a credit card!! The bar also has weird bird-cagey swings. Winner in my book.
Coupled with the fact that there are pictures of me in a bathing suit, and the fact that I keep getting job rejections (which angers me), I've decided to take some action. How the heck do these two things relate? Well, they don't. But it is clear that I need to eradicate that beer belly, and that I need to try and keep a positive outlook on the job situation. So I've decided to try and go for a run every time I get a job rejection. At least that is my initial plan.
I'm not entirely sure how I didn't even make it through the first round for the "Staff Assistant" job- perhaps they see me as over qualified. Sure. Glass half full, but pocket pocket getting half empty. So I went for a run. Today is the 4th day in a row that I've gone for a run. And when I say gone for a run, I really mean jogging at a slow pace. Toady I ran over 3.5 miles. That is surely a record for me. I have no idea how long it took and honestly I don't care. The fact that I'm not dead right now, nor did I throw up after my run is really all that is important. I couldn't tell you the last time I ran that far...maybe during a soccer game in college. See, I despise running. But I figure if I can maybe make it a good stress relief- it'll be something I come to enjoy. Maybe. I have dreams where I run effortlessly. I'm definitely not in the effortless stage yet. Heck, I'm not even in a likable stage yet. Tolerable is more like it. The fact that there are hills here makes it all the more challenging. And I've learned an important lesson from that too- run uphill first. Whoever says Portland doesn't have hills can run the route I did 2 days ago and can kiss my soon to be in shape butt.
Sidenote: I miss Lollapaloozy. That is all.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
no help here
Portland doesn't need any help from me keeping it weird. I am fairly certain that the 2 people who felt it necessary to take their birds with them to the farmers market have me covered. A cockatoo and a macaw ...shopping for fresh berries? I suppose so.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
News
Do you want the bad news or the worse new first?
The bad news is that my first phone interview here in Portland, after some great back and forth emails with the Director of HR, consisted of her calling me to tell me that the position was filled.
The worse news is that my oven isn't really large enough to make chex mix on a large scale.
The bad news is that my first phone interview here in Portland, after some great back and forth emails with the Director of HR, consisted of her calling me to tell me that the position was filled.
The worse news is that my oven isn't really large enough to make chex mix on a large scale.
Friday, July 15, 2011
the hills are alive with the sound of...muscles?
I"ve been riding my bike a lot. Which is kind of awesome. It's been a long time- perhaps since before being able to drive, in which I've had to rely upon a bike for transport. I had a bike in Chicago- one that I rode for fun on the lakefront path. But it was casual riding- and somehow it was stressful. Too many people on the path, heck even riding in the streets to get to the path was a pain.
So far the streets in Portland have been kind to me, mostly. There are gently sloping hills which allow for a nice coast on the way down- you know, the kind where you take your feet off the pedals and really just appreciate the speed and the wind and the blur of it all. Of course the downside to a gently sloping hill is in fact the upside. At some point time, you've got to climb back up that bitch. No matter how gently sloping, a hill is a hill. And this girl's quads are still trying to cope with that.
Despite that burning sensation, being out of breath, and ickily sticky from riding my bike, it's actually fun. Fun I forgot about since being a kid. Perhaps I may take that sentiment back if I have to bike to work (uphill both ways) every day. But hey, I still don't have a job yet, so let's not even think about that.
The weather here hasn't been top notch, but I'm not complaining. A few cooler grey days still beat out 90 degrees and 90% humidity. But maybe I only say that because I like wearing pants. Who knows. There's a smell in the air, and it isn't from all the homeless people downtown (sometimes when it is warm there are certain parts that just smell like hippie armpit). The smell, some might call it a stench, is from plant- also in Chicago. It is a sickly sweet smell- one that somehow seems to capture decay and growth at the same time. Some people hate it, I love it. It's starting to show, and so I'm assuming that means warm (constant 80s) weather is on the way.
So, hopefully I'll have quads of steel next time I'm in Chicago (which might be during the fall). And better stories because this entry sucked. But just to make it amusing, I want you all to know that the Doogie Howser theme song has been running through my head the entire time I've been typing this.
So far the streets in Portland have been kind to me, mostly. There are gently sloping hills which allow for a nice coast on the way down- you know, the kind where you take your feet off the pedals and really just appreciate the speed and the wind and the blur of it all. Of course the downside to a gently sloping hill is in fact the upside. At some point time, you've got to climb back up that bitch. No matter how gently sloping, a hill is a hill. And this girl's quads are still trying to cope with that.
Despite that burning sensation, being out of breath, and ickily sticky from riding my bike, it's actually fun. Fun I forgot about since being a kid. Perhaps I may take that sentiment back if I have to bike to work (uphill both ways) every day. But hey, I still don't have a job yet, so let's not even think about that.
The weather here hasn't been top notch, but I'm not complaining. A few cooler grey days still beat out 90 degrees and 90% humidity. But maybe I only say that because I like wearing pants. Who knows. There's a smell in the air, and it isn't from all the homeless people downtown (sometimes when it is warm there are certain parts that just smell like hippie armpit). The smell, some might call it a stench, is from plant- also in Chicago. It is a sickly sweet smell- one that somehow seems to capture decay and growth at the same time. Some people hate it, I love it. It's starting to show, and so I'm assuming that means warm (constant 80s) weather is on the way.
So, hopefully I'll have quads of steel next time I'm in Chicago (which might be during the fall). And better stories because this entry sucked. But just to make it amusing, I want you all to know that the Doogie Howser theme song has been running through my head the entire time I've been typing this.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood
Forgive me readers, it's been awhile since my last post. I'll give you a run down of what I've been up do, and then let you in on some local observations.
I've been working a lot this week, pulling lots of hours on excel doing some not so exciting spreadsheet/payroll work. That has significantly cut into my lounging time, that's ok. Must not overdose on lethargy, lest it become a habit. I'm up to my 3rd capoeira class. Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts aka sexy dance fighting- this episode of Bob's Burgers explains it fairly well. It is an excellent workout as well as a challenge. Plus it is giving me crazy feet calluses. Yes, you wanted to know that.
I'm making my way slowly through The Unbearable Lightness of Being- not sure why I haven't gotten into it yet- perhaps because every time I go to read it at the park other things happen. Like napping. Or observing. Or playing a double header in softball (in all honesty, when I went to the park that day it was with the intentions of reading Gregor the Overlander, not the previously mentioned non YA fiction novel above). I ended up reading Gregor a few nights later. Good, fast read.
I went to Last Thursday the other night (Thursday, duh). This is a monthly event which is basically a street fair up on Alberta. Lots of people on stilts, lots of strange bands, a midget playing a violin, good art, bad art, idiots riding bikes through the street fair, etc.
Today I went on my first official bike ride. Got the bike back from the shop on Thursday, and today I went for a 5 mile ride. Not too far, but I've got to give myself a bit of time to get used to riding on hills. I wanted to ride north and not stop till I hit water (the Columbia river). But the farther north you get, the less bike friendly it is- more railroads and factories, and roads that are dead ends.
So enough about me. Let's talk about my neighbors. I have 3 of them- meaning we all share the same address. I have other neighbors too, but I'll get to them lately. The first thing to note is that I have met all of them and had conversations more than once with all of them. At my last place in Chicago, the only person's name I knew was the (jerk) guy who lived above, since I saw a package with his name on it. I ran into people on occasion, but no one really ever interacted. It's nice knowing these people here- it gives me a sense that people are looking out for each other.
So there's Shawn. He's youngish (my age?) and the first person I met here. He knocked on my door on Friday to say hi- and to get this, let me know he stopped by on Thursday to let me know about Last Thursdays...I had already left to go up there. He then went on to explain that I should feel free to let him know if he's being too loud or anything is wrong. He is loud, sometimes, which he explained is usually when he is working out. Hey, if it's not past midnight or before 7am, I really could care less.
Then there's Judy. Judy is shorter than I am, and is somewhere between the age of 55-70. I seriously have no idea how old she is. I asked my mom when she was in town, and she couldn't put a number on it either. Judy may or may not be a hoarder. I haven't had the chance sneak a peek through the screen door. Judy also may or may not have an obsession with QVC. And when I say may or may not, this time I mean she does. I've seen many packages outside her door on a very regular basis. Judy also keeps forgetting my name. And she maybe also watches QVC at 3am...at least I think that's what she was watching that one night.
And last but not least, supposedly living in the same apartment for 20-30 years is a man named Cupid. Yeah, that's his real name. And his son's name too. Cupid is also in the age range of 55-70 and has already done me the favor or replacing my janky smoke detector. He's the unofficial maintenance man here- I assume he gets a rent discount for mowing the lawn and doing small tasks. He also has a hoopdie (hoopdy?) parked out front. It's nice in case I forget where I live- I just have to look for the baby blue 1982 Cadillac with white-wall tires and a tarp bungeed over the sunroof.
Again, these are all really friendly people. Weird (with the exception of Shawn, I suppose)...but I guess that's Portland. Most everyone (except for some douchies here and there) has been friendly- I stopped in to Whole Foods tonight to get some beers (Deschutes Obsidian Stout in case you care) and olives. And a conversation erupted between myself, the checker, and the woman behind me- about Chicago.
The weather has been great here- 66 at the coolest, and only 1 rainy day in the past week. Urban legends say that post July 4th, it'll be nothing but sunshine and 80 degrees. Fab! But I'll admit that with the passing of Pride and the 4th coming up, it is strange to be in a city that isn't Chicago. These hallmark holidays that are rooted in friendship and debauchery, set against the beautiful backdrop of sweet home Chicago- it's hard to not be there for that. And that's only going to continue- for market days, and Lolla, and softball playoffs, and Columbus day (ha, just kidding)...
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I've no plans. Start looking for a job, go for a bike ride, go to the farmer's market, figure out plans for the 4th, go to the park- maybe even paint.
And that, friends, is keeping up with Erin for the time being.
XOXOXOX
I've been working a lot this week, pulling lots of hours on excel doing some not so exciting spreadsheet/payroll work. That has significantly cut into my lounging time, that's ok. Must not overdose on lethargy, lest it become a habit. I'm up to my 3rd capoeira class. Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts aka sexy dance fighting- this episode of Bob's Burgers explains it fairly well. It is an excellent workout as well as a challenge. Plus it is giving me crazy feet calluses. Yes, you wanted to know that.
I'm making my way slowly through The Unbearable Lightness of Being- not sure why I haven't gotten into it yet- perhaps because every time I go to read it at the park other things happen. Like napping. Or observing. Or playing a double header in softball (in all honesty, when I went to the park that day it was with the intentions of reading Gregor the Overlander, not the previously mentioned non YA fiction novel above). I ended up reading Gregor a few nights later. Good, fast read.
I went to Last Thursday the other night (Thursday, duh). This is a monthly event which is basically a street fair up on Alberta. Lots of people on stilts, lots of strange bands, a midget playing a violin, good art, bad art, idiots riding bikes through the street fair, etc.
Today I went on my first official bike ride. Got the bike back from the shop on Thursday, and today I went for a 5 mile ride. Not too far, but I've got to give myself a bit of time to get used to riding on hills. I wanted to ride north and not stop till I hit water (the Columbia river). But the farther north you get, the less bike friendly it is- more railroads and factories, and roads that are dead ends.
So enough about me. Let's talk about my neighbors. I have 3 of them- meaning we all share the same address. I have other neighbors too, but I'll get to them lately. The first thing to note is that I have met all of them and had conversations more than once with all of them. At my last place in Chicago, the only person's name I knew was the (jerk) guy who lived above, since I saw a package with his name on it. I ran into people on occasion, but no one really ever interacted. It's nice knowing these people here- it gives me a sense that people are looking out for each other.
So there's Shawn. He's youngish (my age?) and the first person I met here. He knocked on my door on Friday to say hi- and to get this, let me know he stopped by on Thursday to let me know about Last Thursdays...I had already left to go up there. He then went on to explain that I should feel free to let him know if he's being too loud or anything is wrong. He is loud, sometimes, which he explained is usually when he is working out. Hey, if it's not past midnight or before 7am, I really could care less.
Then there's Judy. Judy is shorter than I am, and is somewhere between the age of 55-70. I seriously have no idea how old she is. I asked my mom when she was in town, and she couldn't put a number on it either. Judy may or may not be a hoarder. I haven't had the chance sneak a peek through the screen door. Judy also may or may not have an obsession with QVC. And when I say may or may not, this time I mean she does. I've seen many packages outside her door on a very regular basis. Judy also keeps forgetting my name. And she maybe also watches QVC at 3am...at least I think that's what she was watching that one night.
And last but not least, supposedly living in the same apartment for 20-30 years is a man named Cupid. Yeah, that's his real name. And his son's name too. Cupid is also in the age range of 55-70 and has already done me the favor or replacing my janky smoke detector. He's the unofficial maintenance man here- I assume he gets a rent discount for mowing the lawn and doing small tasks. He also has a hoopdie (hoopdy?) parked out front. It's nice in case I forget where I live- I just have to look for the baby blue 1982 Cadillac with white-wall tires and a tarp bungeed over the sunroof.
Again, these are all really friendly people. Weird (with the exception of Shawn, I suppose)...but I guess that's Portland. Most everyone (except for some douchies here and there) has been friendly- I stopped in to Whole Foods tonight to get some beers (Deschutes Obsidian Stout in case you care) and olives. And a conversation erupted between myself, the checker, and the woman behind me- about Chicago.
The weather has been great here- 66 at the coolest, and only 1 rainy day in the past week. Urban legends say that post July 4th, it'll be nothing but sunshine and 80 degrees. Fab! But I'll admit that with the passing of Pride and the 4th coming up, it is strange to be in a city that isn't Chicago. These hallmark holidays that are rooted in friendship and debauchery, set against the beautiful backdrop of sweet home Chicago- it's hard to not be there for that. And that's only going to continue- for market days, and Lolla, and softball playoffs, and Columbus day (ha, just kidding)...
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I've no plans. Start looking for a job, go for a bike ride, go to the farmer's market, figure out plans for the 4th, go to the park- maybe even paint.
And that, friends, is keeping up with Erin for the time being.
XOXOXOX
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
in the 'hood
I've been meaning to update more frequently, but I suppose I've been busy lately. With what, I'm not exactly sure. Yes, I've been working- mostly in the mornings, spreadsheets, emails, etc. Which has left my afternoons and evenings (for the most part) free for exploration of this new place.
I went on a 6 mile walk last week. Sort of just meandering around- my eyes taking in the sights of the houses, the landscapes, my butt taking in the slow peaks and valleys, and my ears taking in a lot of quiet. It's not that things are still around here- there are cars, there is music, the noise of garbage trucks, my neighbors slamming doors, and there are the sounds of people playing basketball, but where I am is far removed from the sounds of a city. A walk down the street here sounds very different than a walk down a side street in Chicago. I'm not sure why, entirely- residential is residential, right? Not so much. And I can't pin point it. Perhaps there were just more people in Chicago on the streets, perhaps not. I'll get back to you on that one.
I'm still without a bike (on my to do list) which is a huge form of transportation around here, hence the 6 mile walk. It feels lonely being a pedestrian- there don't seem to be a lot of us round these parts- and the ones I do see are usually walking dogs. There are tons of bikers, runners, skateboarders, and not a whole lot of people walking. Sure, on the main drags there are people going in and out of bars, shops, etc- but they probably got there by bike, bus, or car...not by foot. This is an initial assumption, and may be more reflective of my neighborhood than downtown, but we shall see. But I will have to drink the kool-aid, buy a bike and pedal on. I don't mind walking places- I've got 3 main drags within 2 miles of me- Alberta Arts, Mississippi Avenue, and the small strip on Williams avenue. But 2 miles still takes while by foot, and when the weather turns crappy I'm sure to want something a bit speedier.
Due to this lack of cycle, I haven't really left my quadrant of the city yet (except when it was raining one day and me and my friend Ben went to go see Super 8 in the SE). Portland is divided into 4 quadrants, SE- neat areas, famous perhaps for the Belmont/Hawthorne districts. SW - where most of downtown is, as well as PSU, NW- famous for the Pearl district, and NE - where I live. And then there's North Portland (aka NoPo) -the 5th quadrant. It is west of NE, North of NW, kind of on it's own, but a neat area for sure. So I suppose I've been in NoPo a bit, as well as venturing around the NE, and I can say that I'm pretty happy with where I've landed.
In my 10 years in Chicago, I didn't live farther than 2 blocks from a grocery store. Now I'm a bit farther out, and pretty limited- 6 blocks to Whole Foods. Whole Foods is well and good for some things, but we all know it is not the cheapest place around, and I have no intentions of going broke on organic meats. There does seem to be a lack of bodegas in my hood as well, but I'll just have to deal...and we are back to the bicycle issue. Until then it's pedestrian city.
So what else is in the 'hood? Sunday farmers market about a mile away where I've purchased some tasty radishes and honey, watched a kickball game, ate some fresh goat cheese, and again meandered (I do a lot of that lately). Capoeira class, which I was peer-pressured into going to, and damn happy I went. I had a lot of fun, but my feet didn't. I'd take pictures of my blisters, except I fear that I'd lose all my readers by doing that.
I found an art store in, where else, Alberta Arts district that is tiny and adorable. Blasphemy though, as they don't carry any Prussian blue paint. What's a girl like me to do?? Oh right, tiny stores will special order stuff. I also ate at a Mexican food cart that had rave reviews on yelp. The reviews must have been more for the vegan/vegetarian menu (which was larger than the meat eaters menu) as I wasn't too impressed by my carnitas burrito. Rumor has it that Mexican food isn't that great in this town. Le sigh. I miss Taco Burrito Palace and Big Star.
That's all for now. If you need me, I'll probably be reading at the park.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
...of course the trees
Tomorrow marks 2 weeks since leaving Chicago. So much has happened in the past two weeks, but it feels like forever ago and 2 seconds ago all at the same time.
So what's new? Furniture arrived on Friday, and I am currently at a state of 90% unpacked. I'll be honest- I'll probably stay at 90% unpacked for awhile- until I muster up enough motivation to figure out what I want to do with the boxes of books I have nowhere to put, and the tool box I hopefully won't need in the near future. My apartment is a glorified studio, but it feels good. I'll be the first to let you know there is nothing wrong with small things.
I live across from an amazing park that I hope to visit every single day that I'm here. Why? Because there is something new and/or weird going on everyday for me to watch- tai chi, softball, frisbee, soccer, families shooting rockets, group training classes, people and dogs, strange cheerleading(?) practice that involved bikes, grill outs, and of course the trees. Perhaps the coolest thing in Portland are the trees. Not only are they everywhere, but they are beautiful, amazing, and awe-inducing. There are plenty that make me want to get back into tree-climbing, and I'm sure I will when I'm feeling adventurous. There are ones that just make you stare up and up and up- and your neck hurts from craning back so far. Trunks so fat you'd have to hold hands with 2 friends to go around, branches so plentiful you feel like you're lost in a maze. Holly trees, pine trees, sycamore trees, maple trees, and so many more...and don't even get me started on the shrubbery.
The neighborhood I am is a stone's throw from an historic district- with gorgeous half million dollar houses that don't look like they should cost so much. But they are bigger on the inside than they look. A lot of people take great pride in their front yards here, with stepped retaining walls packed to the gills will all kinds of greenery and flowers. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful and pretty damn fragrant too.
I've had the pleasure to do a lot of walking lately. Like I said, I am a stone's throw from a fancy hood, with my side of the park being a little less fancy. I've spent some time exploring the neighborhood and surrounding areas. One of the interesting things is that you can feel like you're just strolling about the 'burbs one minute, and then turn the corner into a bustling area reminiscent of Andersonville.
There's so much more to write about- like the prevalence of senior citizens as neighbors, the way being a pedestrian actually feels lonely in this biking town, the food carts, the dude I met named "Wood Poet," and the brew-pubs. But that'll have to wait until next time (which might be tomorrow).
Monday, May 23, 2011
puzzles, perfection, and chaos
Packing is kind of funny. No matter how much you plan, it never works out right. I am fairly certain I inherited a gene from my father that allows me excellent spatial sense, a miracle in packing. Things fit inside other things, stacked well, solid. At least that's how it works out in the beginning. A proud smile lingers after every expertly packed box. But now, not so much. Pure chaos in boxes. Moisturizer and umbrella in the same box? Blasphemy! But there's no way to avoid it- nothing fits together perfectly all the time. Even the best laid plans have snags. Even the best packed boxes have socks stuffed in a corner.
I suppose this is just another way to procrastinate- I don't want to pack imperfect boxes, or have to take my tv down. Or limit my next few weeks of clothes to a few bags. But in each of these things, there are lessons. I'd tell them to you, but I have to see what fits in with a welcome mat, a few cans of beets, and a tent.
I suppose this is just another way to procrastinate- I don't want to pack imperfect boxes, or have to take my tv down. Or limit my next few weeks of clothes to a few bags. But in each of these things, there are lessons. I'd tell them to you, but I have to see what fits in with a welcome mat, a few cans of beets, and a tent.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Nothing hid up my sleeves
Last night I had the great pleasure of seeing one of my best friends and favorite musicians perform for the last time (at least in a while). It felt like coming full circle, sad and sweet. I first saw and fell in love with Katie Todd when she played after The Locals at their CD release party at Subterranean. The Locals put on a good show, but I was blown away by Katie and her band. It was a jaw-dropping, stfu and just watch kind of experience- which is really rare when you're seeing and hearing a musician for the first time. I was dead set on seeing her perform as many times as possible after that. And boy did that happen. I can honestly say that knowing and being a part of Katie's life shaped a lot of my life in Chicago. I have seen her play at so many venues here (I could list 'em but I'm sure you don't really care), I've gone on crazy impromptu road-trips, I've danced my ass off, been hoarse many times the next day, all thanks to her. I've had the pleasure of playing roadie, selling merch, being backstage at countless bars and shows, and even hanging out in the studio. I never would have expected it, that one night at Subterranean would have changed my life so much, and I guarantee I wouldn't change a damn thing about it.
I think I've seen Katie perform over 100 times (I stopped counting a few years ago), and it still never gets old. I can't say that anyone else's entire music catalog will ever remind me more of the past 10 years in my life more than Katie- that every song will remind me of Chicago and the beautiful people here in my life.
Last night was amazing- like I said, both sweet and sad. One last night in the green room. One last night listening intently with awe and love. One last night to think I'm the only person in the room noticing when she forgot the lyrics, teared up, or did a silly little dance. One last night quietly comparing the old arrangements to the new ones. One last night watching my best friend captivate an entire room with her voice and words. One last night, for now.
I think I've seen Katie perform over 100 times (I stopped counting a few years ago), and it still never gets old. I can't say that anyone else's entire music catalog will ever remind me more of the past 10 years in my life more than Katie- that every song will remind me of Chicago and the beautiful people here in my life.
Last night was amazing- like I said, both sweet and sad. One last night in the green room. One last night listening intently with awe and love. One last night to think I'm the only person in the room noticing when she forgot the lyrics, teared up, or did a silly little dance. One last night quietly comparing the old arrangements to the new ones. One last night watching my best friend captivate an entire room with her voice and words. One last night, for now.
Monday, May 16, 2011
I'll make tiny changes to earth
Working on a leaving mix. You know, because thats what I do. Overly romanticized mix tapes trying to capture snapshots of feelings- of life in this city here.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Nothing to look at, letting go.
My walls are bare, the rooms in my apartment feel larger. Those roommates, my babies, I've been living with for all these years have moved on to other homes, other owners. So this is what an empty nest feels like.
Ok, that was kind of dramatic. But I've recently parted with paintings I've had for almost 7 years. I've still got some left to keep me company, but my living room does feel much larger, much more boring. Same goes for the bedroom and of course the bathroom.
I've started packing today. Movers say I've got somewhere between 2000lbs and 2500lbs of stuff. How did I get a TON, a literal ton of things? And now I have to put those things in boxes. Makes you realize how little you actually interact with these things. I'm going to pack a box of books- most of which I haven't touched in years, gathering dust over the past 2 years (from the last time I moved). I can't seem to part with most of them. Is this the human condition? Always holding on to things we don't want, don't need, can't use. But we grip tight, just in case. Always just in case.
One of the things that motivated me to make this move is a reflection on the above ideas. In January of this year I was offered an opportunity to create a giant mural only to have it painted over, back to a stark white wall days later. My first instinct was to say, "oh hell no." I am easily attached to the things I love, the things I create, and the people around me. I have a hard time letting go, and am fully aware of this. I decided to take a chance- so I reconsidered and decided to participate. I had to make something, and then give it up. Hours and hours and hours I spent on this mural. I loved every minute of it, getting lost in such a big space. Weeks later when it was done, I stood proudly by it. I called it "A World Map of Learning How to Let Go." And that is exactly what it was, a study of myself and the ability to let go of something that had become near and dear to me. It wasn't easy, those few days later, standing there with a roller and a tray of white wall paint, erasing everything that I had done. Of course it was never really gone- I had pictures, I had memories, and I had witnesses to that work. Still, it was a challenge to let go.
And that's one of the motivations to my leaving Chicago (outside of the whole moving to be closer to my family thing). It has my heart, and it has broken it many, many times. And for now, even though this place is home, I'm letting it go.
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