My dad brought over an article in the Chicago Tribune, about art displayed in front of houses of Oak Park, and other cities. terrainexhibitions.com
Michel and I biked around Oak Park where some houses had art displayed, most on the 700 block of Highland. Sometimes it was hard to guess which houses have art for this exhibition and which houses have just a huge balance ball in their front yard for other purposes. Then I noticed that the art always has a descriptive plaque.
On our adventure, we ran into a favorite homeless man. He told us that he would like to contact deodorant companies and see if they would donate deodorant to college students. He went on to say that students could pass the deodorant around and share it if necessary.
Yard zucchini, behind that, Judi Dench, the chicken who is now eating the other chicken's eggs. We don't have the nerve to eat her yet.
Michel has gone back to work teaching High school this week. For his last weekend of freedom I left him to do what he most wanted to do. So he went in the the basement to sculpt. He is in terrible need of a head to sculpt and no heads have volunteered so I reluctantly offered my own.
As a woman who is a victim of our media and culture's war on women's self esteems, this is not my idea of a fun thing.
I tried to read "Infinite Jest" by David Foster Wallace.
In other words we hid from the world as usual.
He, or DFW, was raved about in a recent class I took.
I'm arriving late to the hip party of his fandom, but I want to see what all the hubbub is about.
I'm hooked. The book is as thick as a brick. But reading him or listening to him is like weight lifting for the brain. It is hard work, but it feels like the brain is better for it. As though I feel an afterglow similar to after a run.
From what I can understand The protagonist is not being understood as he talks, but it is possibly due to the fact that he is talking on such an intelligent level. He says in the interview above that he did not want it to be funny. I find that very funny.
The protagonist must be based on him, who in interviews keeps thinking he is not making sense.
In the novel's world, each year is subsidized by a specific corporate sponsor for tax revenue. The years of Subsidized Time are:
Year of the Yushityu 2007
Mimetic-Resolution-Cartridge-View-Motherboard-Easy-To-Install-Upgrade
for Infernatron/InterLace TP Systems for Home, Office or Mobile [sic]
Year of Dairy Products from the American Heartland
David Foster Wallace thinks postmodernism is over. So do I and I have wished I could coin a new phrase.
Compost Modernism.
I was recently told that to grow new muscle, you need to lift weights "to fail" or until your muscle will not work any more. I will read this "to fail" and hopefully come out a smarter person.
Amendment to an earlier thing I said: The reason I have had no or very few pictures of having fun is that I am multi-phobic. I just made that word up. I fear traveling, going fast in cars, being in small spaces, speaking in public. I used to shake visibly when talking to boys. I had a depressive period when even going to the library made me panic, for no logical reason. Taking the El, ever since riding in a smoky car made me panicky, is now a big deal. Last week I took a measly
ten minute ride on the luxurious Metra, and it was the first time I did not panic. It was also the first time I took a train in years.
So I, at forty-four years old, am trying to stretch my wings. Go outside my comfort zone.
Yesterday, Jeanne Wilson, my best friend, gifted me two tickets to see the Cubs. I took Michel.
He too, by the way, has had bouts with anxiety, and in my opinion has not had enough fun in life. For instance, when I met him, he said he watched TV by looking out the window of his apartment at other people's TVs. I will have to ask permission to put this in print. (Permission granted, he now says.)
So we were gifted great seats to a very exciting game -- Cubs versus San Fransisco. The Cubs won in a very exciting way. Neither of us had been to Cubs game in a long while, Michel since the 70's, I since the 90's. As someone who doesn't regularly watch sports, I am not qualified to comment on the game. I nervously eyed the scoreboard, complete with pictures of who was up at bat, and I was not sure where the outs were on the board. I kept saying to Michel, "Is that the best picture they could get of the batters?" They all looked startled.
"What do you expect?, He asked"
"Glamour shots" I responded.
Whenever there was a foul ball or pop up, I saw the ball coming and was certain I was about to die. At one point the ball hit the stands and I was surprised they did not have to investigate the after- effect, they went right on with the game.
I took no pictures of this once-in-a-life-time event because I left not one, but two iphones in my unlocked car, allowing anyone to make hundreds.
So I am Gifting you with pictures of my chickens and someone else's ducks having fun.
For the second installment of Michel and Sarah's excellent adventure, we face many fears and go see clowns perform at a cemetery.
I, for one have a clown car load of phobias.
The entourage (my parents) joined us.
Also, it was my 44th birthday.
So, yeah, a clown made out with my dad. I had to remove the sound portion of the makeout due to the fact that I was screaming. The mayor of Forest park spoke, a little too long.
Clowns gave out toys and candy to kids and my dad wanted all the toys, leading the clowns to think he was special needs. My parents' dog was dressed in a clown collar. Notice in the video my dad says "John Wayne Gacy" after the mayor says we should recognize the great contributions clowns have given us. And they probably do give us a lot. This event was free and adorable minus the mayor with the thick Chicago accent and ulterior motives whatever they were, I don't actually know if he had motives.
Sunday started with a visit to see the ducks. First time in a few months. This time I am helping the duck owner by letting the ducks out in the morning and putting them back in at night. Its easier to catch them as they are now wearing shoes. Note Hank in the back getting caught up. Hank it turns out is a female and her beak is always open.
