as a homage to you, the reader, i will for your sake and my own, now pour out a summary, if you will, consisting of the contents of this the letter you are reading. all these little entries and excerpts of life are merely letters in transit, a virtually handwritten document addressed to no one and only read by those members (privileged or not) of the human race who know where in transit to find, read, and leave for the next in-transit traveler to do the same as they.
repercussions of nagging ideas for change (web page edition)
additions to my own private gallery of my own mostly-not-so-private work
visitations by the type of person viewed as most elder brotherly and least younger brotherly with absolutely no blood relations between
awaiting ever evasive trains

and before the contents of this the summary, i beg the reader to indulge my whims and thoughts (mainly during the above activity of 'awaiting ever evasive trains') with a piece on sunglasses:
the simple thought of a sunglass is the opposite the simple thought of a magnifying glass. the later item brings things to a better view to be seen in a more favorable light. the former simply to put everything in a darker light and pull the curtain on the world to make night of what is day and dim what is bright. walking however through these gorgeous chicago summer days, i have come to realize the differences between sunglasses and the normal accessory. after aquatinting oneself with another on days such as these, the person ceases to resemble their own face, but that of their sunglasses. round, square, curved, black, calico shaded, and in a similar fashion to the unrecognizablity factor when someone with previously rectangular glasses exchanges them in for some small coke-bottle frames. the person is the same, but at the same time, is entirely different. even as i myself pull out a pair from my purse while walking around the city, the faint smell of coffee always seeming to linger as they most likely rested in the bag near something related to that caffeine heavenly drink, i can't help but wonder if i have the same motivation. not to shield my eyes from the sun, but shield myself from the world the sun lights, even by a few more millimeters.


and now onto the scheduled items listed above the previous paragraph. due to some qualms with my website that have been dragging in the back of my mind (most likely since it has been up), i am now in the process of a re-layout scenario with myself as the not-so frantic main player poking around behind the curtain every once and a while. all this is merely to say, "soon."

not completely wanting to work on any photo within the realm of my own picture-taking, this picture, as obvious, is not mine as it is one of the musician Sufjan Stevens. cardboard had to do since my 'sketch' book (a refurbished textbook-ish material on fossils) mysteriously is not here but at home in Memphis, although i could have sworn seeing it randomly throughout the past several weeks, and i also have no more spare canvas fabric to use up.



the next (and probably remaining) pictures in this letter are of my friend Daniel's visit to the city. we encountered at least five separate weddings on saturday, two of the celebrations which interrupted our visit to the field museum and our almost-visit to the adler planetarium, the rest of which were happening intermittently outside along the lakeshore. we both found it peculiar to have a party saying, "come celebrate the new found happiness of my marriage in front of a replication of the bone structure of a t-rex or the exact dimensions of a martian volcano." the rest of the city remained in it's normal ebb and flow and the weather was the epitome of the 'gorgeous chicago summer day' as mentioned in the sunglasses paragraph.

pseudo mini recording sessions.

millennium park.

the field museum has no lack of items what-so-ever. especially pottery. there were about five extra rooms that only consisted of pottery of all varieties. we thought it must be so disappointing to be an archaeologist and upon finally discovering some object buried in the sand, only to discover that it's just another pot.

the aztecs.

the camera switched hands.


walking along lake michigan.





as with the summary item 'awaiting ever evasive trains,' it merely consists of waiting this morning for the better part of a couple hours for the next train, after i dropped Daniel off at his bus. luckily i had thought to bring a book, Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger. i first read this book a few years ago, but it has been one of those few rare but familiar faces on the bookshelf to offer a helping hand of encouragement, not with 'inspirational creativity' or any bullocks like that but merely with the passing of time. i finished Franny, the first section of the book, which is the superiorly shorter section, and nearly got through Zooey, the longer but as it holds the power of a 'conclusion' of sorts, is the superiorly quality section. it made me almost wish i had to stay in transit waiting for more trains on a regular basis, merely for the fact that it would generously improve my vocabulary and the books sitting patiently on my shelf.