Purple and Pink: Colors Make You Think
I decided to take a break from my back-breaking amount of homework and go on my walk. I pulled out my paint chips — dark pink and light purple. I headed down North Lincoln Avenue.
2:38 p.m. I had just passed underneath the Fullerton ‘L’ stop when I saw a woman with a purple cast on. She had a scooter to give her mobility despite her injury. Right after I took the photo, a white car zoomed by, blasting a Spanish rap song. People’s shoes slapped, clicked, and scratched against the sidewalk. The ‘L’ roared above me before coming to a stop.
2:42 p.m. I turn around to see the DePaul Art Museum. Inside, there is a pink chair that nearly matches my swatch! It looks like a wool material, and I want to sit in it. A girl walks past me wearing a white blouse and a black skirt. She smiles at me and I smile back. Cars are rushing by. A man with a ginormous lawnmower opens the black gates next to the museum. The lawnmower is monstrously loud, and he rides along down the sidewalk as the gate closes behind him.
2:45 p.m. A FedEx truck pulls up to an ornate house to deliver a package. The purple lettering on the side of the truck catches my eye. It is purple, but I will admit that my swatch is a tad lighter. A woman in a bright orange tank top passes me. An old grandma wearing an all-black outfit walks by, sporting aviator sunglasses with purple shades! I wish I could have taken a picture. She looked like a trendsetter. I hear leaves rustle in the breeze, and I glance up at the trees around me. It is sunny, but I am on the side of the pavement that has shade. The temperature is lovely — not too hot, not too cold. The train dings and reminds everyone that the doors are closing. I smell memories of summertime, which throws me off. I continue on.
2:50 p.m. A little girl dressed entirely in hot pink is asleep in a purple stroller. I did not manage to get a photo, but I cannot believe how much purple I have spotted already! She is pushed by an elderly man with scraggly hair.
2:55 p.m. I cross North Halsted Street at the crazy asterisks-looking intersection. There is a poster on a light post that matches my pink swatch. It says, “Crate Diggers Record Fair”. My interest is peaked. I read more, and discover that it is a show where Polica is playing! One of my favorite bands! I am now excited and want to go to this concert so I can see them. Fun fact: They are from Minnesota, like me. The sun beats down on my back, and my backpack straps feel heavier than ever. I thought there was an annoying, whining motorbike, but it turned out to be a drill of some sorts coming from the construction site of the new DePaul School of Music. It drones on in the background of all the traffic. A yellow cab pulls up beside me as they stop for the red light. The poster is smooth against the chalky feeling of the light post. Two women speak Spanish as they pass me, each pushing a child in a stroller. One has a girl in a lime green stroller, while the other has a boy in a teal stroller. There is a giant pile of rocks behind a fence by the light post, which I conclude means more construction. It sort of smelled like the rocks — like the dust from when a bulldozer moves them had clouded the air. It also smelled like gasoline, thanks to all the cars. I decided to head back, as my backpack felt like I had filled it with that pile of rocks.
Response — Wood & Krygier
In Wood’s “Intro to Everything Sings”, the maps are a form of art. They are made to be related to the personal part of the world it depicts. The jack-o-lanterns made by children, the wind chimes hung up. The maps are made to depict the personal lives of who lives in that area, not just street names and sidewalks. Krygier and Wood define a map as a proposition. It “affirms the existence and location of its subjects”. Maps are related to the world it depicts because each one proposes a different reality. We make maps to attempt at forming our own reality of a certain place. However, maps are subjective because different places mean different things to individuals. We make maps to try and show our story, but lines and street names and sidewalks do not tell much. Wood’s more artistic take on maps is refreshing, as it puts the depiction of our surroundings in questioning. Is Google Maps taking away from the uniqueness of our habitat? Are we settling for less by accepting plain old cartography showing streets and houses and sidewalks? There are many things to think about relating to maps and their meaning in our world.
