Friday, August 28, 2009


"The Green Mill Jazz Club is on the site of a much bigger Green Mill Gardens complex, which was an outdoor music gardens fashioned after The Moulin Rouge Gardens in Paris. It was a sunken gardens area, surrounded by a wall and featured nightly entertainment during the summer months. It also featured a dining room which was later converted to the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge during construction of the Uptown Theatre on the former site of the outdoor music gardens. The club was once owned by "Machine Gun" Jack McGurn, a right-hand man of Al Capone, who was a regular patron at The Green Mill."

I went here Wednesday night with Carrie, who was visiting her mumsy in the city, and Burkle. One of my last Chicago adventures.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Theme for Great Cities

This might be my last visual update (though it consists of leftovers from the last two months) from Chicago. I will try to take some photos during my last week here, but I am not making any promises. I am looking forward to Ohio.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Automatic for the People

I finally got around to having eight rolls of 120 film processed. Today, I spent four hours in Lindsay's studio scanning all of it. Considering I am a Holga newbie, I was fairly pleased with my results. I will post more later... for now, here are some non-Chicago scenes.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Color Me Once

I have been a bad adventurer lately. I try to go to the beach when I can because it's free (I'm broke) and it's fun (I love bodies of water). And -- shh -- I am trying to get a bit of a suntan. I've been unsuccessful in so many respects. I have a problem waking up early. Then I have a problem assembling myself, eating breakfast/lunch, and leaving the apartment. By the time my flip flops hit the trails, it is late afternoon. This is nearly always the beginning of my day. And, you know, it's highly annoying that it is nonstop sunshine during the three days of the week that I work and blahish during the four days of the week that I don't. I succumb to hermit-ism, and not even to do productive things like read or back-up my computer files. Instead, I watch terrible television jam-packed with informercials, eat too much bread, and wonder if my thighs or too big or if my hair is too dry.

At least when I do go out, I get to enjoy the fresh air, the sounds, the people, and, ah, the colors.