An Overdue Visit to The Art Institute of Chicago

You know how it goes. When you live in a fascinating city, you don’t take the time to see and appreciate the sights unless someone comes in town. I don’t.

Recently I had the opportunity to visit The Art Institute of Chicago. It has been far too long so I took my daughter and one of her girlfriends who had never been to Chicago before.

Here are two of my favorite things:

Marc Chagall’s stained glass:

 And the most stunning piece in the place and my personal favorite is an oil on canvas by a French painter named Jules-Adolphe Breton. It is titled The Song of the Lark, 1884. This painting glows in your presence! I could stand before it for hours.

Art Or Political Statement? I'm Confused!

I slowly drive past this developing “exhibit” every day on my way to the gym. First noticing it in August, I’m completely fascinated by its ever-changing dimensions.

Is it some sort of political statement or simply someone’s crazy expression of creativity? Both?

I’d like to believe its art because, hate to admit. I’m not terribly political.

I’ve never seen anyone maintaining this “sculpture” yet it seemingly has a life of it’s own. Weeds continue their takeover.

Early on, the heads were staked individually looking like Ronald Reagan triplets. The next week, they totem poled signifying Uncle Sam as head honcho.

Surprising me, a banner appeared on a beautiful fall day at the end of September. Representing someone in love, or purely wanting to get this chick in bed? The blue “feels” peaceful but how do I interpret that in conjunction with the pole? My over stimulated curiosity said, “Get in that yard so you can really see.” It’d be about my luck to get ticketed for trespassing.

Two weeks ago, one grew hair overnight. And this week, lips were painted BRIGHT red!!! Don’t they sort of look like Al Gore? Not because of the lips!

And what does a cement ball have to do with anything?

I got an “A” in Art Interpretation but I’m having a hellava time with this one.

Then this occurred to me.

I’m living in this peaceful, pint-sized bubble pondering “whatevers” while people are struggling. Everywhere.

I hate that feeling. Sometimes. Being so far removed.

The cosmos seems angry. Unsettled.

The mess on the East Coast is horrific.

I’m weary of the right/left-slanted emails I constantly receive. Delete. Delete. Delete.

Friends are arguing over the candidates at dinner parties unwilling to “hear” each other or agree-to-disagree. I'm uneasy being around it because I crave harmony.

At dinner last night as everyone heatedly spoke about how Sandy will affect the election, my 88-year-old literature loving friend, who read poetry to me beginning at age three (FOG), saw the look on my face and asked, “What book are you reading?”

I mouthed, “Thank you.”

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This post was written for Write On Edge using a song to inspire a post. This one was inspired by "Peaceful World" by John Mellencamp. It is not meant to be a political statement at all but completely the opposite.