Mandi + Adrianne

Coca-Cola, Football, Radio Radio Radio...

Summer's nearly gone.

I started off writing a really depressing blog to go along with these photos, but I thought better of it. I've been a very neglectful photographer, and I've felt really aimless. I am only just now taking the difficult though much-needed baby steps toward remerging myself in some sort of creative community so that I can rediscover some inspiration and then, maybe some time in the far off future, I will take more photographs. It's not that I don't care or that I don't want to try. I am exhausted and, to put it vaguely, really struggling with the larger mysteries of life. No, in the end, I don't really know what I want to be when I grow up. I graduated with a passion and a direction, of some sort, in photography, and I moved to this beautiful big city to fully realize the possibilities. But I kept jumping up and down and all around and couldn't get anyone's attention. I didn't know what to do. I had no savings and no job and no plan so I had to start working -- and I mean really working -- long and hard hours at a restaurant so that I could live here. For awhile my photography and my work in the food industry coexisted somewhat. I shot some weddings, some freelance bits here and there, and I even had an exhibit (though somewhat amateur-ly and haphazardly organized on my part) at my favorite little coffee shop this past spring.

Since April, though, I have almost solely focused on being what I hope is the perfect general manager (at previously mentioned restaurant) for my staff. I should be proud that I have stability and that I do my job fairly well. I should be optimistic about the future and my options. I should be grateful that I was promoted and greatly supported (by the owner, operating managers, and a slew of other professionals who know what they are doing in this crazy and, at times, discouraging industry -- not like me) though I'm young, inexperienced, and, well, just generally emotional about life. I have a lot of reasons to feel like I've done a good job, but I don't feel like that. I feel confused and anxious. I feel like I have something inside of me that I've pushed away and totally neglected. It isn't that I don't love my job or the people in my life because of it, but I don't nurture the part of me that has something to say, something beautiful to show. I never thought I was the most creative photographer, but I do have a point of view. Or I did. Maybe I've lost it, or maybe it's just so deeply buried that it feels completely gone.

I am not sure what I am committing to in this blog post, but I want to be held accountable for the simple things that I'm not doing. I don't blame anyone or anything for the overall lack of passion all around me. And so, at the moment, I don't really have much more than these little snaps from my phone from the past few months of summer. It's a feeble statement, but at least I am still half-awake and trying to pay attention.

Denice Korcal for The Promised Lives Campaign

Touching From a Distance

My Valentine's Day present was a ticket to the Sky Deck in Willis (*cough* Sears) Tower. I've worked directly across from this building for seven months now and, until last week, I'd only ventured in once or twice to use the post office.

There are few gifts more romantic than one that involves looking out onto the shimmering city through the windows of the fifth-tallest freestanding structure in the world.

Bang Bang You're Dead, Hole in Your Head

I Stood There Invisible in the Panicking Crowds

Those Days, Days, Days Run Away Like Horses Over the Hill

On Being Replaced

Stay (Faraway, So Close!)

Deviating from my norm, I realize it has been some time since I have really "written" anything to coincide with my photographs. Let me fill you in: I moved to Chicago one week after graduation, exactly one month ago today. I live alone in Hyde Park, splitting my time between interning, working, and adventuring (most of the time up north to see Carrie). So far, I haven't really had too much time to sit down and think think think. For me, this is a refreshing departure from how I spent my last summer in Chicago... and, really, how I spend most of my time in general. I have kept myself on my toes, I have made photographs, I have been persistent, and, for the first time, I have truly recognized the potential of my life. That isn't to say that living here is not humbling. In fact it is, almost daily, for me. That isn't to say I haven't had moments of sadness. In fact, I have, but I allow myself those moments, so that I may (to quote a friend), "Wash my face and carry on with my day." I have had worries -- boy, have I had challenges! Interning downtown for the first time was scary -- I did it. Finding a fun and flexible part-time job seemed impossible -- after over twenty applications and numerous interviews, I did it. I've navigated the depths of the ghetto -- alone, and at night. I've consistently slept in a pipin' hot apartment. I've pinched pennies. I've lived minimally. But, I'm here. I'm proud of myself. Do you know how amazing it is to admit that?

The above photographs are reminscent of the photos that I took during the first day of my internship (via 28mm rather than 50mm). My good friend Jill was visiting Chicago for the first time this weekend, so I served as a sort of makeshift tour guide of the city, of course making sure we stopped in Millennium Park to polish off her authentic tourist experience. We dipped our feet by the Crown Fountain, observed the throng of children soaking themselves from head to toe... and, just then, I remembered how good it felt to be free. On any hot summer day, a beautiful photograph is waiting to be made in this city. The realization alone is liberating enough.

Am I Only

Shade of Blue

I've been here before, I know this shade of blue
It's you

I've felt your touch before, I know your way
A ghostlike sense of state
You're gone

I don't care if you can't take it, I can't take it anymore, I'll die
- Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Lines of Influence

Another week down in the Chi, residing in the building pictured first. I've battled loneliness, boredom, heat, hunger, exhaustion, frustration, insomnia, and paranoia. All in low to moderate doses. Resulting in a draw toward images like the last. Last week was my slump, but I seem to have come out of it.

That is, despite discovering that I accidentally overwrote portfolio and personal work from fall and winter of this past school year. Poof. Gone from my external hard drive. Gone forever. I tried, for the past twenty-four hours, to recover the lost goods, but to no avail. I might have spent $99 doing so. What a waste. Such things always make my heart heavy. But I suppose there's nothing to do but move on, and keep moving, and keep moving...

Today was sort of a "pivotal" day in my petty young life three years ago. I always stop for a moment to respectively pay homage to the past. I could give you more of an elaboration, but, instead, I'll maintain my allure by avoiding specifics. I will say that I often refer to Oasis's "Champagne Supernova" when revisiting memories of former fondness. "How many special people change, how many lives are living strange?"

Maybe those words are more about me than they are about anyone from my past.

Via Chicago

So, now that the dust has settled, I have been in Chicago for officially a week. Charles helped me move in and stayed with me to help me adjust. I have always thought of myself as a strong-willed, independent lady, but I really needed him to be here. It was an emotional and exhausting experience, coming into the city to live and work for the summer, and I don't really know if I would've managed very well without his support. We had a beautiful time.

I've thrived in small towns my entire life. I've always been a big fish in a little sea. That isn't to say that this is the first time I've felt humbled by my surroundings.

Charles left today to go back home, and, at first, I didn't think it would be very difficult. After we said our goodbyes, and he pulled away from the parking lot, I came back upstairs to my lonely, dorm-sized apartment, and I felt a little lost. Then the tears came. I guess this is suppose to be the point when I realize what a great opportunity I've been given. I have to slap myself out of sadness and coach myself to focus on the positive. So, I will.

I know I am not the only one, but I grew up modestly. I come from a lower-class family in mid-Ohio. When I was little, I became accustomed to my father's frequent bouts of unemployment. Pancakes and grilled cheese for dinner. Thousands and thousands of dollars in credit card debt and bankruptcies and foreclosures. Quaint birthday celebrations. I didn't have friends over very often for fear of their judgement. I have never wanted anyone to look at me as the poor, disadvantaged girl. Luckily, despite their vast irresponsibility, I have completely loving, completely naive parents. I have worked very hard throughout my educational career to ensure some sort of foundation for myself. As an independent, I struggle financially all the time, but I hope that all this discipline leads to some sort light at the end of the tunnel.

At the same time, walking around the city, I realize how I have been so privileged to experience the comforts of family, education, and love. There are so many wounded souls on these streets. So many individuals with all the hope in the world, though they have nothing but the clothes on their backs. They say "God Bless" even if you refuse their pleas for spare change. And when you scrounge for a mere dollar, they are so grateful for your generosity. I guess this post is turning into something rather cliché and mushy. I am sort of lost as to what I originally intended to say.

This journal will be the first of many detailing my thoughts and feelings about living alone in the city this summer. My emotions are pulled in so many different directions. At the end of the day, I am, for the first time, a little homesick, but so, so hopeful.