Republic

Can a photo be Republican?

Oh yes it can. Democrats take pictures with grit. The more liberal you are the grittier the photo. True lefties take high contrast pictures of shanty towns.

And Republicans take pictures that look a little flat. Clean and wide open. The visual equivalent of a second gin and tonic.

Am I a republican or do I just shoot like one?

City

Mostly glory. Mostly broken glass. Mostly vanity. Mostly the most of what we do most.

If I had spent a lot of time studying art I could tell you this picture was a reference to a style of portraiture popular in the 17th century. Mostly people would find it boring or exciting, but a few would recognize the code, and decode.

But I'm not a student of art. Caravaggio anyone?

Nature

Spring along the shores of the river.

Meercat Manor

Ever feel as if life is a series of unconnected incidents that don't amount to much? Ever look at the great towers of the city and feel less than inspired. Instead of feeling awed, you just start to wonder how long the plumbing will last?

Yes we are going to die. Our bones will become brittle and our teeth will fall out. Our sexual organs won't function anymore but at some point we won't care. We'll be old, and then we'll die.

When I get overwhelmed by those thoughts, I usually go to the zoo. Animals can cheer you up. And what can do a better job than a few Meercats. Really, who cares if our city will rust and our freeways return to dirt? They don't. And neither do I.

Emerald City

Frank L. Baum, who wrote The Wizard of Oz, lived near Humboldt Park. The building where he resided, in typical Chicago fashion has been torn down. A small plaque sits outside the scattered site public housing there today.

I've often thought of Chicago as the real life Emerald City. I like to walk around Humboldt Park and wonder if Frank L. Baum Standing on the same sledding hill and looking at the Chicago skyline thought the same thing.

Ok, the sledding hill probably wasn't there and the skyline barely visible, if at all. If nothing else, I have my own Emerald City to inspire me.

Starved Rock

I'm from Wisconsin, and I'll admit to having a Dairy State snobbery about scenic beauty. I thought Illinois was just cornfields, and falt ones at that. Some place I could safely pass through on my way to hiking and camping up north.

well, I was wrong. About 90 miles west of Chicago, Starved Rock State Park is an oasis of beauty on Illinois river. There are many canyons you can hike into, boasting waterfalls that freeze in the winter. There is also a lodge that will welcome you with a roaring fire after to warm you up after your winter hikes.

Noel and I hiked into the canyons back in January. Sure winter hiking requires a little more bundling, but the rewards are many. The scenery is often more beautiful in a stark way, and you don't have to share.

I captured this serene scene.

Viva Boricua

Puerto Rican pride runs deep in Humboldt Park, as evidenced by the two Puerto Rican flags bookending Division Street beween Western and California. Weighing several tons, they are anchored 50 feet in the ground.

The Puerto Rican community has similarly deep roots in Chicago, originally coming from the island to work in the cities many factories. Over the years, Chicago's Peurto Ricans have been centered in Humboldt Park, but they also thrived in Lincoln Park, and Wicker Park.

Today, you'd be hard pressed to find any Puerto Ricans in Lincoln Park today. Beginning the 70's that neighborhood was transformed into haven for young professionals. Yuppies, their detractors called them, and still do.

Today, Humboldt Park is threatened with the same transformation. Facing this, many of the residents have banded together to promote a Puerto Rican identity. The most visible signs of this effort are the giant flags.

The nature of the American cities is change, and whether Humboldt Park will remain Puerto Rican is an open question. After all, Humboldt Park was built by Norwegians. Today little evidence of them remains, beyond the Norwegian American hospital and some black and white photos. Maybe in the future , all that will remain of the Puerto Ricans of Humboldt Park will be these giant flags, and the sense that our city has lost something unique.

Bob Wire

Look carefully in almost any corner of Chicago and you'll see it. Barbed or even razor wire. It protects our used car lots, garages, roofs, vacant lots, almost any place you really want to keep people out of.

I remember the shock of moving to Chicago and realizing the stuff was all around. Although I grew up in a city, my city didn't have too much of it, at least not where I lived. Yet Chicago had it seemingly in every corner. It was both in your face and fading into the background.

I started to wonder what it said about our society that we would allow something so ugly, and so clearly meant to inflict harm, to invade our streetscape. I couldn't imagine Paris or Barcelona filling up with barbed wire. Yet we put it up and put up with it everywhere.

Still it does have a stark beauty, and I've grown fond of it over the years. I suppose every major American city has the stuff lurking in its corner, but I've kind of come to think it as one of those things that makes Chicago, well, Chicago.

Car Town

Chicago is really a car town. Sure most people associate the city with an image of the 'EL' rumbling over head, but they would be just as right in associating it with an image of the first limited access highway in the country, Lake Shore Drive.

A friend once described Chicago as a cross between LA and New York. Stand along Western avenue, with its used car dealers and strip malls cheek by jowl with greystones and 'EL' stops and you might think he was correct.

Western Avenue, the cities longest street, stretches from Evanston to Indiana. Once the western border of the city, it has evolved into a four lane paradise for the internal combustion engine. Pedestrians, if there are any, are assaulted by auto exhaust and the sound of braking semis.

A reminder that Chicago truly is a car town.