A Night at the Art Institute

Thursday nights the Art Institute of Chicago is free to residents of Illinois. In an attempt to become more cultured I’ve started to take advantage of this perk. According to the website, there are nearly 300,000 works of art “in fields ranging from Chinese bronzes to contemporary design and from textiles to installation art.” Based on the rest of my research, it’s somewhere around a million square feet—but for some odd reason, sources are cagey on that one.

As you know, I really love to watch people and then categorize them. And there are lots of fascinating types of people at an art museum.

Stop and Stare: Their family members go through an entire wing in the time . . .

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Tripping on a Pothole Pt. 2

I love hearing from anyone who is faithful and kind enough to read my blog. After Tripping on a Pothole, I heard from lots of you.

No, I’m not injured. No, I don’t think I’ll sue the city for negligence. The suit wouldn’t take anyways, as one of you says, “I’m pretty sure the city thinks it’s not a real pothole unless they can’t see the top of your head if you’re standing in it.”

In addition to your kind and caring words, I also received a photo of a pothole on the Chicago bike path. The city had the decency to mark this one—which they did with great zeal.

Hm.

Hm.

Friday Night: A Vignette

A few interesting people I’ve seen in Chicago this week.

  • Tuesday after work, a lady talking on the phone walked past me. I heard her say, “I’ll do anything to keep my mind off of what’s going to happen on Friday.”

  • Thursday night, a man carrying a to-go container dropped it on the ground. His chicken wings and parmesan brussels sprouts spilled all over the sidewalk.

  • Friday afternoon, a well-dressed man sprinted into a busy street, chasing a balloon. His seven-year-old daughter, wearing a flower crown, waited patiently on the sidewalk for him to retrieve the balloon.

  • Friday evening, a biker cut through a line of parked cars to the sidewalk. Miscalculating the three-inch curb, he flew over his handlebars and barely caught himself on his palms.

Four seemingly unconnected events—but if they were in one of my stories . . .

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Tripping on a Pothole

Occasionally, utter humiliation is probably healthy.

Today, I was crossing a busy Chicago street in front of a silver Mercedes. While checking the bike lane, I stepped deep into a pothole. Catapulting forward, I did that thing where you’re scrambling on your palms, trying not to completely fall over. My water bottle flew out of my hand and my heels went flying up.

The Mercedes pulled up as I skulked over to the sidewalk, and the driver leaned over and asked,

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” brief pause. “I’m fine. Just hurt my pride.”

He grinned.

“I thought you were going down hard!”

I tried to say something pseudo-coherent, but probably failed. He drove off, and another guy crossed the street to ask if I was alright.

Guess maybe I’m not all that and a bag of muffins. Just another Tuesday.

See that crater-sized pothole? My dignity is somewhere in that pit.

See that crater-sized pothole? My dignity is somewhere in that pit.

Your Two Choices

You know the feeling—the first time in your professional career you worked really, really hard on something. You stayed late after work for two weeks, poured hours and hours of energy and heart into the project, and drove all your friends crazy because you wouldn’t talk about anything else.

Finally, deadline day rolled around. You printed off the proposal, took the inevitable my-firstborn-child-is-going-to- . . .

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Networking (or, Learning as a Team)

Networking: (v.) a professional term for making friends and then shamelessly using them to learn things and get places in life.

Today, I had the privilege of sitting in on a discussion with several peers in the communications field as they discussed where they’ve gone since college, and what they’ve learned in the process. Everyone has a different story, and hearing insightful people unpack what they’ve learned is a valuable experience.

My four biggest takeaways . . .

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(Pt. 2) A Failed Blog Post: It Wasn't a Failure!

I’m so thankful for every one of you who faithfully engages with me on this blog. You bear with me through the days where I make sense, and also the days where I don’t (I figure it’s about a 50/50 split, maybe 60/40 if I’ve had plenty of sleep). Occasionally, some of you even let me know what you think—which I love!

After A Failed Blog Post, one of you said what I was trying to say 1,000x better than I ever could have—so well, in fact, that . . .

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Teaching through Story

A. W. Tozer was a renowned pastor, teacher, and writer. He wrote about God with clarity and conviction. Remembering to do what many heady authors are prone to forget, he often used the power of story and illustration to drive home his point.

When you’re trying to write something that will reach people, you need to go behind their minds—you must reach their . . .

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A Failed Blog Post

I spent a long time (long time = several nights in a row) fighting with three or four paragraphs about writing. Having an idea that you can’t fully communicate is, as every two-year-old knows, grippingly frustrating. It’s annoying. It’s tiring. And it seems to get more complicated, the longer you try to simplify it. Or maybe that’s just me.

Since simpler is often better, I’ll lose the clunky phrases like, “Beyond the dictates of pragmatism and pedantry,” and cut to the main point:

Good writing isn’t just about grammar—it’s about rhythm.

Maybe if I can figure out how to say everything I want to say, I’ll write a P.2. Until then, you can fill in the blanks in your own mind.

Six Years Old on a Plane

One Christmas when I was small, my family flew to Florida to spend the holiday with my grandparents. Our family of seven rarely flew places when I was younger, since corralling five children through an airport is both costly and (I imagine) exhausting.

The travel day, already an adventure, became more exciting when we ate ice cream for lunch, and climaxed when I was given the privilege of sitting . . .

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