Scenes from Chicago

Here are a few scenes from my visit to Chicago. It already feels like so much time has passed! And in blog-time, I suppose it has since I have failed to update. Well, this begins my attempt to resurrect this blog.

These two are taken from the alley behind our apartment. Pocket of Bolts is up on our back landing/fire escape. I'm down in the alley. It's a funny little space, all run down and urban looking but it has its charm. I suppose everything in Chicago has its charm when I am so far away.



Pocket of Bolts has joined the Art Institute. He is very proud of it. That made me smile indulgently until we went there and I realized the special treatment he (and by extension I) got. Why, we just walked right in without fussing with money or lines or tickets. We got smiled at. We could go through the special exhibition as many times as we wanted. We didn't feel like we had to see everything at once because it was free to go back--therefore it was less tiring than going to a museum usually is. I am now a huge fan of being a member.

We saw some pretty neat exhibits. I always especially love their photography down in the basement. We end up looking at it every time because it's right next to the bathrooms. Good planning! The one that was new to me this time was "When Color was New"--about early experiments with color photography as art. The arguments against it were especially fascinating. It would be too much like the real world; it wouldn't really be art. And so on.

The special exhibit was on Ambroise Vollard, a guy who had had incredibly good (or at least incredibly influential) taste and had assisted the careers of so many artists who are now practically household names. His form of charity was having a portrait of himself done, and one of the most amusing things about the exhibit was all the varieties of portrait he got as a result. He was an interesting-looking guy, fortunately. One of the most touching and terribly sad things was a tiny film of him helping the ancient Renoir, whose hands were completely destroyed by arthritis, to sign a painting. I have always had a great fondness for Renoir, partly because the women he liked to paint had very much the same body type as I do and everyone thinks THEY'RE beautiful! But anyway, it was a really cool and interesting concept for an exhibition--and we got in "free."

This is just a picture of the courtyard. Going to the museum always makes me feel like I see the world differently. It's not just about art. It's about how looking at art changes the way you look at the world. Or something like that. Anyway, it was hard to get the kind of picture I wanted here, but I just mean to say that everything seemed beautiful.

I did not end up making pie that week, as I had meant to. I did however make a batch of biscotti. It didn't come out perfect--if I made it again I would up the cardamom and leave out the cinnamon. It was pistachio biscotti, but I was kind of making my own recipe. At least the texture came out right. And it was fun to be cooking again. I'll perfect that recipe yet!

We went to dinner with some of our neighbors, who Pocket of Bolts has befriended. I had actually met them a couple of times before I left, but they have hung out with PoB lots in the interim. Here is us with their Ball Python, Chomp, who has grown a lot since the last time I saw him.



He had just got done shedding his skin and seemed more slimy than usual. I know--snakes aren't actually slimy. But he didn't seem crisp and dry. He seemed wettish and fragile, which accounts for both of our peculiar expressions--we're totally okay with reptiles, but this one just felt especially odd. Still it was cool to have him pouring over and over my hands.