To a conference!

Having been home, then, for approximately 5 minutes

I found myself in a Penn State mini-van with these ladies,

on our way to Chicago.

We arrived at our lovely hotel late in the night,

having spent a long day driving.

[Good thing they had this lift for the 3 steps 

we would have had to drag our luggage down...]

But the next morning I awoke ready for a new day,

and found this bakery not too far down the street.

I sat and pondered life, 

watching the morning commuters make their way.

It turned out we were in a part of Chicago called Oak Park,

which is where Frank Lloyd Wright first set up shop.

Hence the neighborhood consists of typical Victorians

mixed in with FLW's creations.

On Tuesday afternoon 

[before the conference we were actually there for began]

we wandered around to take a look,

and discovered that his very first commissioned house 

was right there on the corner.

[Then I ran into this flower, and got a bit distracted...]

Anyway, our destination was actually his original home,

which he built for his family and which has been restored
following their directions.

We toured around it [no pictures allowed!],

and marveled at his genius.

His studio was there as well,

and it was strange to think how ahead of his time he was,

since his work doesn't seem so unusual to us now...

Later that evening we were in for a treat,

because the CEO of the publishing house connected to the conference

actually lives in one of FLW's houses,

and he opened it up to us,

to explore.

[I enjoyed looking around,

though will admit that perusing these nice people's 

kitchen cupboards was perhaps going a bit too far...]

Anyway, we closed out the night by sitting out on the porch,

talking together about all kinds of interesting things,

and marveling at the fact that we were actually hanging out

on a FLW porch.

[Since this was the second experience of FLW's work I had this summer, and since it is usually all 'no touching allowed', 

this felt particularly strange to me...]

Anyway, eventually we ended up back at our hotel,

to continue to enjoy the cool night air

at our charming home-away-from-home.

But let me change the scene here for just a moment,

to tell you about the moments un-photographed.

Because this was one of those situations where if you kept yourself to a certain section of streets, you could think the whole world was pure charm. And, pure white.

But if you ventured off just a block or two,

[which I did, because I do that]

you found poverty, hardship, direness.

You found Jeremiah, of blank eyes and skinny limbs, 

asking for a dollar, but clearly needing more.

You found the man unnamed who stood with you in CVS, buying 6 very large cans of beer, while at the same time quoting AA statements about how life is what you make of it and being very very chipper as he discovered that the bandage he'd unwrapped while waiting in line had resulted in blood just pouring down his arm. 

[Which may explain why the cashier was wearing rubber gloves.]

You found a world you could pretend didn't exist,

if you wanted to.

But you could also carry an ache in your chest,

because buying one man breakfast cannot ever fix it,

and agreeing with the other that you just have to "keep your eyes above" 

will not change the roots of his hardship here below.

And then you could go on to that conference and spend days listening to people who've been educated for many many years, sharing so many things that they have learned and believe to be important. You could join them; you could present all your thoughts on how children learn music and the questions we still have and the answers we want to know, and you could have very nice visuals made of construction paper and rubber ducks and starbursts-for-the-taking.

And you could hop then in your car and head just down a block,

and find again that whole other world, 

and be glad your hotel wasn't just a wee bit further down the street.

You could do these things,

because that is what we did.