Cloud Gate
Start of the week, and we're living in five star luxury overlooking Michigan Avenue here in Chicago.
We both went to bed before ten the night previously, and so we were both awake at about five, laying in bed watching the light traffic cast shadows on the ceiling of our room.
And another packed day ahead, this time with added art.
We get up at six, and its still dark outside, but the traffic is jumping and horns of the cars are a honking.
Welcome to the working week.
We were up, showered, dressed and waiting in line to Starbucks by half seven, another spiced pumpkin latte was good enough for us, but we had to sit outside again as there are so few chairs to on inside. I feed the small family of sparrows with left over granola, and they are very happy with that situation, each carrying away their sugary nugget of food into nearby trees to try to eat.
We walk down Michigan, over the Chicago River, past row upon row of impressive classical skyscrapers, and Trump's penis extension of a building. It is a vulgar and classless thing, which makes sense.
Down Michigan, until we reach the park near to the museum, where we turn inland to find a place for breakfast. We come across an independent coffee house, have two Queen Bee coffees, vanilla honey roast or something. Is nice, but sweet.
After drinking and eating, we walk back to Michigan, cross over and go into the park to hunt for the Sky Gate, a huge silvery bean shaped sculture that is very reflective. I hoped to be early enough so there would be few others about.
Some luck.
Everyone's a photographer these days, but the poor shots I take are more than made up (yeah, right) by the look of joy on the people around me's faces, as they try to take shots of the clear blue sky and huge buildings reflected in the sculpture's surface.
I take shots from all angles, but the truth is, none are that good.
Anyway, I spy some kind of area just beyond with sweeping, arcing supports for lights, that might be a winner? I snap that too.
Cloud Gate
Start of the week, and we're living in five star luxury overlooking Michigan Avenue here in Chicago.
We both went to bed before ten the night previously, and so we were both awake at about five, laying in bed watching the light traffic cast shadows on the ceiling of our room.
And another packed day ahead, this time with added art.
We get up at six, and its still dark outside, but the traffic is jumping and horns of the cars are a honking.
Welcome to the working week.
We were up, showered, dressed and waiting in line to Starbucks by half seven, another spiced pumpkin latte was good enough for us, but we had to sit outside again as there are so few chairs to on inside. I feed the small family of sparrows with left over granola, and they are very happy with that situation, each carrying away their sugary nugget of food into nearby trees to try to eat.
We walk down Michigan, over the Chicago River, past row upon row of impressive classical skyscrapers, and Trump's penis extension of a building. It is a vulgar and classless thing, which makes sense.
Down Michigan, until we reach the park near to the museum, where we turn inland to find a place for breakfast. We come across an independent coffee house, have two Queen Bee coffees, vanilla honey roast or something. Is nice, but sweet.
After drinking and eating, we walk back to Michigan, cross over and go into the park to hunt for the Sky Gate, a huge silvery bean shaped sculture that is very reflective. I hoped to be early enough so there would be few others about.
Some luck.
Everyone's a photographer these days, but the poor shots I take are more than made up (yeah, right) by the look of joy on the people around me's faces, as they try to take shots of the clear blue sky and huge buildings reflected in the sculpture's surface.
I take shots from all angles, but the truth is, none are that good.
Anyway, I spy some kind of area just beyond with sweeping, arcing supports for lights, that might be a winner? I snap that too.