It has officially been a week since I moved out to Chicago for the summer. The past few weeks have been a complete whirlwind, and I honestly do not thing my consciousness has caught up to where my physical being is quite yet. I am living in Rodger’s Park, north of the city and very close to Evanston, the location of Northwestern College, in an apartment so close to the lake I can hear the waves in the morning and at night; I ride the train into downtown, almost an hour commute, to work in the Tribune Tower on the Miracle Mile; I am using a complete set of Nikon bodies, lenses, strobes - anything I want is available to me.
And though I’ve always believed I would live and work in a big city once I finished school, I am still completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of Chicago. I know some people will argue with me on this one, but I think New York City is a lot easier to learn/navigate than Chicago.
People keep asking me what it’s like being in the city, if it’s amazing, if I’m having so much fun... and my answer has been, and still is, it is very daunting. It’s so big here. I’m used to shooting for such small audiences: Kent State and Chautauqua. Both of those papers are so niche that it was easy to understand who I was shooting for. Out here, I have not learned who my audience is yet. Everyday I walk by people of all nationalities, speaking every different language, business people, tourists, performers, shoppers, every day people just living their lives. And it is completely not my element.
I’m not saying I’m not glad to be out here... it’s just very new, and still scary. My boss has been terrific. He is very patient, and very eager to teach me. So far I have shot an Olympic committee meeting, a blues-singer’s funeral at Jesse Jackson’s church, and a feature on cupcakes.
On the other side of things... it’s lonely here. I barely know anyone here... (if I’d written that statement two days ago, it would have said I don’t know anyone. Sunday I met a great kid named John, who is a friend of a friend from home. And last night I reconnected with my cousin Peter who I haven’t seen for years and is in the city working for Goldman Sachs.)
I’ve lost a lot of friends in the past 9 months. Some because of stupid decisions made on their part, more because of my stupid decisions, and some because I knew I just couldn’t be around them anymore. Some friendships have been more strained than I’ve wanted, but knew that those needed to be away from me for awhile. The road trip I took before I left started to teach me the people I truly cared about, the very few people I missed. There was one night I was feeling alone, so I pulled out my phone to send a text... and couldn’t come up with one person I really needed to talk to. So I put it down and went to bed.
Tonight I put on a CD that I haven’t listened to in months. And it made me think about the people that this music connected me to for so long. And all the shit I went through because of it. It’s not their fault specifically; I was at a point in my life where being around them was exactly what I needed. But, the decisions made during that time hurt me and several people around me. In fact, one phone call destroyed something that could have been great... and I regret that phone call all the time.
This summer is going to continue to teach me about me. I’m living by myself. Wandering around a city I’ve never been in and expected to show the people who live here what’s going on. It’s a big task. But I know I will fall into the role quickly, not smoothly, but quickly.
After putting that CD on (and thinking about a recent conversation w/ a wonderful, supportive person), I wrote this:
“I know there are so many better things waiting for me... but sometimes I miss how things used to be, and the people I'm leaving behind. But I know that those relationships were mutually detrimental... well, at least they were on my end. I probably had no impact at all. I know I have to move forward...”
I have to move forward.
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