Storied Streets
Chicago: a grid system of people, businesses, intertwined neighborhoods, a history of constant renovation, and a mindset of come-as-you-are.
The rich history embedded in the sidewalks. The people who etched their whispers into the pavement with each footstep. This city has hidden stories and entrancing perspectives waiting to be told, to be heard. It’s our responsibility to listen to what it has to tell.
Look down. Where do you walk? What do you walk on?
To me, this picture represents the constant revitalization of the modern age. It’s kind of a stretch and over-analytical, but that’s what I see. Because of this photo, I am reminded of how often we fail to recognize and appreciate the flourishing era we live in. We strive to grow in unorthodox directions, reaching for an attachment to something that stabilizes our vitality. We created an edge and find growth to mend the ragged gaps of our follies. We are hopeful and build upon the most basic foundations to create an interesting life. Stumbling upon these leaves that have been laid across a small section of the concrete, is akin to our growing advances in this society.
Look up. The Chicago Cultural Center awaits your awed arrival.
The time, effort, and ingenuity slaved over this place pays a great homage to all of the neighborhoods intertwining throughout Chicagoland. The grid, although carefully planned, spawns twists in turns with each account of history. Towards the middle is where it starts to get interesting and more complex. The middle, where everything converges into something indescribable; an experience only truly appreciated if you start from the outside and work your way in.
Perspective: A useful tool to answer the incomplete, complex question of “Why?”
In the first photo I’m lofted above ants. I realize how inexplicably feeble we seem. Our trifles are nothing more than disparities created just for the amusement. We live among titans who engulf our lives, standing tall and still while we arbitrarily peruse our path towards a routine destination.
And then in a matter of minutes I live amongst them. I am one of them. I see their special features and imperfections. I have them as well. We are built from one another and live life off of each other. I am reminded that just because we are small does not take away our importance.
Walking in Pilsen sparked a passion I had once temporarily lost.
The rich history and the narratives painted across buildings riddled me with the reasons why I have entranced myself in the field of Anthropology. The reason behind every mural and mosaic evokes something powerful within me. The passions of every individual and their need to explain the wonders of the human condition in spiritual ways inspires me. So many people hold their belief systems and their community like it’s their life. Everyone has been able to contribute something beautiful and inspirational to a community just like this tribute of La Virgen De Guadalupe.
It’s intoxicating to look up and enjoy the view from below.
Once again, the Chicago Cultural Center.
The place to wander aimlessly and ponder the intricacies of this classical dwelling is accepted and well encouraged. I’m sure I would have overlooked this place on a normal day. I’ve hurried past this Neoclassical architectural phenom believing it was another building I had no business being in or felt I wasn’t good enough to step foot within the artful building. I have since lamented over my assumptions and possibly will no longer experience such during my time here at DePaul. Seeing as though I have taken the inspiration and energy gained from this class and putting it to good use to truly discover Chicago.
___________________________________________________________________
During this class, I have found myself looking up at the carefully planned spaces in between buildings. I survey the ground I walk on, inch by inch, looking for malleable imperfections that have contributed small yet intricate anecdotal incidents done by a so-and-so, wired to the city just like everyone else who has passed me by. I press my ears against the winds that carry these storied streets and discover a world beyond my own.
