On Dancin' in The Street

You know, I don't know much about Hockey. The truth of the matter is that I actually do know quite a bit about most sports. I tried my hand at most of them when I was young, only to realize my calling was to other things, but Hockey was not one of them. Therefore, this bit of craze in the City of Chicago around the Blackhawks wining the Stanley Cup could potentially be met with disinterest on my part, but, not so quick.

Last night, Scott and I went to a lovely dinner at Spring in Wicker Park, taking full advantage of his recently purchased groupon. On our way there, I joked that we would be the only people in the restaurant as the rest were crowded in bars watching the potential final game of Stanley Cup Series. We weren't, but there was definitely an energy in the street that didn't involve most people going out to dinner. We enjoyed our meal quite thoroughly. Some dishes definitely stood out to me more than others, particularly this lemon grass coconut soup stood out to me. It was incredibly flavor filled.


After dinner, we made our way out into the street and came across this.



People standing outside the Blueline doing their best to catch a glimpse of the final moments of the game. To be perfectly honest, we proceeded to the Violet Hour for an after dinner drink, but upon our exit the Hawks had completed their task. They had won the Stanley Cup. The streets had erupted.

I was transported back to 2005 when I was working downtown and the White Sox won the world series. The celebratory parade passed by our offices and I had never seen anything quite like. People hanging out windows, climbing up poles, generally celebrating. My second similar experience that to me had so much more significant meaning was the Obama's election night in Grant Park, Chicago. The energy of the crowd, the celebration, the whole evening was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I will always treasure it.

So, last night, in Wicker Park, the streets were abuzz and although it paled in comparison Obama's victory or even the White Sox parade, I was reminded what is like to be around the thrilling energy of positive victory. To be on the winning side. To know, that although I don't know much about hockey, I live in a city that was celebrating on Hockey's behalf and I could be a part of that. I didn't dance in the street, but I was highly amused by those who were. I hear Clark street was a whole different story, but let me be just a little idealistic about the whole thing.

On Floriole and Conversation

I finally made my way over to the new bakery in Lincoln Park called Floriole. It's a charming little joint with a small and pleasing selection of baked goods and lunch options. I enjoyed a delicious cucumber salad with goat cheese, olives and cherry tomatoes as well as an unbelievably fluffy Asparagus Quiche.

I was particularly impressed because my lunch companion looked at my quiche and said "I haven't seen a quiche like that since I ate at Tartine in San Francisco. To which the gentleman at the register said "Huh. Well, that is where (Insert name of woman who bakes for Floriole) trained." Good eye!

Somehow I managed to escape without eating something sweet (which my boss managed to chastise me about) but I will certainly be back as I quite enjoyed just sitting in the space.

Can I just say briefly that lunchtime conversations are some of my favorite? Today I was able to have lunch with a dear friend and mentor and I was reminded that there is something quite pointed about a lunchtime conversation, maybe more so than dinner. Usually the time frame is short and the meal takes less energy, so the conversation takes precedent.

I am privileged to enjoy the people I work with and eat a good hour's lunch with them daily, so I know how valuable that conversation time can be. It's amazing how much business we get done there, so casually, in the midst of recapping our evenings and bad television.

But, there is something to be said for meeting someone for a delicious lunch. The noon hour might just be the most mentally clear of the day. Because of the limited time frame, the pressure to sustain is off and the conversation can just flow. Much can be accomplished. It's a beautiful thing to engage in and take advantage of.

On Bedside Tables

I've been on the hunt for bedside tables for quite sometime. Nearly a year to be exact. I had a fantasy that I would find something kind of vintage and odd for either side, but I have to admit something; I'm not that into searching out vintage things. It is a lot of time and lot of work. Although I like it in theory, I'd rather acquire one of a kind odd vintagey things from family or friends, not from hours of shopping.

So, this weekend, given some extra freedom in my schedule and a willing gentleman with a car, I decided it was time to just go get something so I wouldn't have to set my nighttime glasses of water on the floor next to my recharging iPhone. My original intention was just to pick up some sort of odd looking wood cabinets that didn't match from IKEA. I had seen something online that looked practical, but as many things go with IKEA it was pretty cheap looking in person.

Then, somehow magically in the office supplies department we came across these vintage looking supply cabinets that magically fit the bill.




They are a little off, a little practical, and pretty sweet. They remind me of summers in the high school where my father taught, when I would help him clean his classroom. It's also just a joy to now have somewhere to put my remote and my glasses.

On Inspiration Friday

On Difficult Conversations

Yesterday was a stress filled day. In the spirit of vagueness, I won't disclose all of the reasons why, but let me say that they centered around the theme of conversation, speech and presentation of information. To me, these things are an art. I pride myself in my ability to navigate them and do them quite well. I think one of my positive contributing factors is that my Father is/was a minister and a teacher. He has spent the majority of his life communicating messages that require passion and boldness and that is my model. I try and want to do the same, but no matter how comfortable or secure one feels about speech, there is still a challenge in certain subject matter.

Yesterday afternoon, I felt this in full anxiety. I was at my desk and my jaw began to ache. At first I began to think that I was suffering continuing dental pain, but I realized, I was nervous. The weight of words was felt heavily on my shoulders and clearly pressing in on my jaw. What a bizarre feeling. So much of that anxiety is tied up in the subconscious. I'm pretty good at talking myself out of being nervous, but there is a reason this happens.

No matter what you say or how well you say it, there is still an underlying raw reality to that which you are communicating. You can do it with precision and ease, but your message has a core and a heart and there is nothing you can do about that. You have to accept it for what and trust that it will run its course no matter how badly or beautifully you share it.

How is that for vague?

I think personally, what I am highlighting in saying this is that relationship, communication, interaction require an element of surrender. We have to give up control if we truly want to do these things and that is incredibly hard. Especially if it is something you think you're pretty good at, but no matter how good you are, these things require the surrender to content. If you feel strongly about the content, you have to trust that it will speak for itself.

On Periodicals

If you know just a little bit about me, you may know that I'm a bit of a magazine junky. I do my best to limit my purchases and typically reserve major periodical purchases for trips where I will be spending significant time in transit and therefore actually read the mags thoroughly. But, regardless, I can hardly help myself from purchasing more mini books than any man could ever need.

I think my fascination with photography was what initially attracted me to the rags. It is one of the few places where you can regularly take in new and interesting images, often taken by contemporary art photographers.

As I got home from work last night I was looking through all the periodicals I had purchased in New York, wondering if I would ever be able to read them all, but the truth of the matter is, I don't care. I like having them. For me, they something about things are contemporary and their presence is a good reminder of that which is positively impermanent. They also look great on my coffee table and are good to take on the bus with me when opt for a non-bike-riding-day.

So what am I reading that I picked up in NYC? Well, here are a few of my favs.

Apartamento is pretty much exactly how I would want to make an interiors magazine. It is somewhat informal and candid, but beautifully shows warm and personal spaces with interesting stories. This magazine I feel like I can go back to over and over.






Monocle is hard to explain. It describes itself as "A briefing on global affairs, business, culture and design." It almost seems like a fleshed out New Yorker (which I recently subscribed too!) with a bit more consumerism. It is above all else, well designed with incredible writing. The aesthetic is very graphic.






Finally, Fantastic Man I have been smitten with since my first read. Not only is it designed beautifully, profiling men that I genuinely find fascinating (cover guy Wolfgang Tillmans!) but it is also super cheeky. It makes me laugh because it is the painfully self-aware written word of the modern dandy. It is one of the only periodicals I regularly read that seems fresh.

On Louise Bourgeois

Louise Bourgeois, Like Gerhard Richter is one of those artists that I connected with early on and I'm not quite sure why. I think in someways I've always been more fascinated by Ms. Bourgeois' persona than her art, but regardless, I was saddened to hear about her passing.



We saw some of her works while in New York. I've always thought how beautiful it is to be someone who creates things that last after death. This means, despite her departure, that which she has created will beautifully live on. That's kind of what we all want, eh?

On plants on the Lanai

My roommate and Scott came up with the idea that our porch or terrace should be referred to as the Lanai, like on the Golden Girls. This seemed all too appropriate as the space is now furnished with some rather chic furniture and a bevy of plants thanks to the warm weather of the holiday weekend and a little inspiration.

Ever since living on my own, I've always been a pretty big plant guy. I maintain that the key to keeping plants alive is ignoring them just enough. Especially house plants. I like any relationship, if you forget they need you and then shower them with love, they seem to flourish. In my old home, I never had proper light to really grow as many plants as I would have liked, but since moving into my new home I've been able to slowly grow my house plants collection. Like many amateur plant owners, I have a lot of success with Philodendron. They live through most anything, but now that I have a proper porch (or Lanai!) I was ready to venture into some uncharted outdoor plant territory.

On Saturday, Scott helped me venture down the street to my local nursery called Fertile Gardens. This place was huge, with a great selection and the right prices. Initially, I had these pots I wanted to fill.

Nine pots, waiting for nine lovely plants. Of course, once in the midst of so many options I had to pick up a couple of extra pots and plants to fill.












Not bad, eh?

So what do you do when you have such a beautiful Lanai on a generously warm Memorial Day weekend? Well, Have friends over, of course.

Now, please don't ask me the names of all my plants. I accidentally threw out the little tags. I do know that we have Hydrangeas, Rosemary, Lavendar, Coleus, and a Confetti Flower. The rest are just my dear little plants that I'm pleased to have accompany me through the summer.