Posts tagged "Art Institute of Chicago"

My Love Affair in Glorious Black & White: Why Amazon Rules

Or, why Amazon loves the Chicago Public Library. Memory of  life before reading is a blank. Zip-zero-zilch. Given that I didn’t have the language–how could I put into words a memory? What is it like to not be able to read? I have no memory of my life before literacy. None. Words have always danced... Read more »

October 2017, or Down the Rabbit Hole With Revolution 3.0

Preview of Coming Attractions It was back in 2012 when I heard the idea to end taxes for business. Who’d a thunk–they’d do it? Up early this morning–lark that I am–I look out my window to see more sink holes on Michigan Avenue–now a toll road–apparently there isn’t enough cash to longer cover the repairs... Read more »

The Stand-up Comic as Artist

Roy Lichtenstein. His name evokes different things to different people. He is a papa of POP art, that smack-you-up-the-side-of-the-head art that came onto the scene in the 1960s. When Andy Warhol celebrity images and Peter Max scarves were en vogue. When the tongue-in-cheek adult comic book “Batman” was on the tube for adults, complete with... Read more »

The Memory of Hatred

On a recent Thursday night, we were lucky enough to attend a “Meet the Dancer” talk at the Joffrey Ballet. To my question of how do you remember the choreography, the dancer had a simple answer. “Muscle memory. Weeks, even years later, when I hear the music, my body remembers what to do.” The next... Read more »

Dungeon of Dining

Above me are various shades of fluorescent stick bulbs illuminating the sickly yellow painted cinder block walls and the vomitorium green floor. No natural light enters this chamber reeking of Ramen noodle meals from the 20th Century. Faces are stark, no one stays for long. It reminds me of the Texas prison camp I visited in... Read more »

Farewell Cable and Satellite TV

  On opening the New York Times on Monday, January 23rd, 2012, there it was. In glorious black and white, the reason why I can no longer justify paying $70 a month for what passes as what is available on the tube. Top shows for the past week, sports-‘Jersey Shore’, “reality shows” like ‘Pawn Stars’... Read more »

Take a GOOD look

During my volunteer shift at the Art Institute of Chicago, I have time to watch the people watch the art. There are some characteristic commonalities nowadays. With the ubiquitous camera (either cell or digital) in hand, the visitor looks at the world through the lens. Rarely do they put the camera down long enough to... Read more »
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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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