all things go

i'm in chicago public libary, in a terminal of a few hundred computers all in ardent use by a few hundred fellow unemployed/destitute. on my way to this terminal i came across someone watching some pretty graphic porn and making no attempt at all to shield the screen. interessant. the library is great, the ceiling of the entrance hall is covered in shrigley-esque paintings that crawl over its vaults like colourful little insects. today i'm a little hungover because last night i went with a few fellow hostellers to a jazz club called the whistler. like many places that i have come across in the states, from the outside it looked like nothing (it looked, in fact, like a funeral parlour) but inside it was a really nice intimate space, with a long mirrored bar and a small stage surrounded by curtains. when we got there we had, sadly, just missed a set by a guy who used to play guitar for wilco and iron & wine (i forget his name) but later in the evening a young jazz band played. they were quite good. i got a little drunk on vodka (the measures are Huge here, and pretty cheap [last night a single was $4]). i have met so many people in this hostel. from australia, korea, france, germany, mexico, holland and, of course, north america. actually i have met surprisingly few americans. and yesterday i met my first brits.
to move achronologically (is that a word?), i spent the first half of the day with a lovely dutch girl from my dorm. we went to the modern art museum, which was a bit of a walk, but we stopped on the way for fuel (i had a "MEGA PROTEIN MEAL!!!!!!" or something similarly named in Starbucks, it involved an egg) so it was fine. i was absolutely blown away by the olafur eliasson exhibition. i have seen his work before but never on such a huge scale; now i think he's a bit of a genius. his stuff included a kaleidoscopic tunnel in which you can see yourself reflected and fragmented in hundreds of colours. a circle of light into which you can step that changes its hue so gently you can hardly perceive it. red to magenta to purple to blue to a stark white light. my favourite installation, though, requires stepping, from the lightfield that precedes it, into a room so overwhelmingly dark that you can't see a hand in front of your face. the dark hisses, and as you continue walking tentatively you meet what looks like a slow-moving waterfall, swirling droplets of water vapour momentarily suspended and captured by the white light of bulbs bolted into the walls overhead. this living sheet of motes and droplets, that escape from a pipe overhead, is absorbed by the floor, which is a dark, soft sponge. i stayed in that room for a while with my back pressed against the wall. it was like a little sanctuary.
after the gallery sophie (who is an artist, and who spent a lot of time talking with me about her art) and i parted, because she wanted to go to another gallery whilst i wanted to go to the beach, just to see it, and i wanted to do some drawing. i made it to the beach but didn't really like it, i was disappointed to find that it was just an ordinary beach with girls in bikinis playing volleyball and screaming kids (i don't know what i really expected!). i stayed for a while, though, and then, after consulting my guidebook, decided that i wanted to see Ukrainian Village. i decided to walk. mistake, it took me about an hour and a half with the sun in my face the entire time. the walk wasn't too pretty either, i had to cross a motorway (!), and it was very dusty. i wish i could read maps. upon reaching the outskirts of the 'Village' it was already about five and i thought i was going to die of exhaustion. i wanted food but came across a vintage shop and i just had to go in. i bought some beautiful brown suede mary-janes. the lady in the shop was nice, she said she worked at a music venue nearby. and she asked me if i was in a band, because i looked like someone from a british band she had seen. haha. it did remind me, though, of meera and my discussion about forming a band with a singer and a sitar. we should definitely do that. after my shoe fest (which replenished my energy a little) i went to sit in a cafe for a drink and did some reading. then i walked to damen station and crashed out on the train, which took me home.

one thing i like about the states is the pink marzipan-scented soap you get in the restrooms. i don't like tax, and having to tip (too confusing). and the way that nobody can understand what i am saying, ever. but i complained about that already.

in chicago if you look down you will often see a little colourful chalk drawing etched onto a paving slab by your feet. i wonder who does these.

also, disaster! i have nowhere to sleep tomorrow night and fear i may have to sleep on the subway or, at the other end, in a ridiculously overpriced hotel. everywhere's fully booked because of the Pitchfork music festival; I wish i was going!

until next time; until my next free hour in the library.