Posted by sean on December 12, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/12/12/144/
entering the dark cave
Receiving the first electric/gas bill of the winter season always horrifies me. For the past two years, it has been particularly horrifying due to 14 ft ceilings and huge drafty windows. If I could levitate, I would rise up and bask in the layer of warm air that is inevitably hovering in the upper two feet of space below the ceiling, far out of reach of those of us subject to gravity’s pull. But instead I spent my day climbing up and down a giant ladder in order to cover the windows with plastic in a pathetic attempt to winterize the place. When I did this at my last place, one of my cats immediately proceeded through the house to all the windows and systematically clawed through every single sheet of plastic. I nearly broke down and cried. This year I decided to seal up the French doors leading out to the porch, too, seeing as when I stand near them I can feel the wind blowing through my hair. Since the remaining cat enjoys sitting in front of these doors watching the outdoor activity, I anticipate slashes through the plastic there sometime within the next few hours. I will never, never, never again be swayed by tall ceilings, panoramic windows, or any other Siren song that seemingly benign rental units may sing sweetly into my hungry ears.
Posted by sean on December 5, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/12/05/entering-the-dark-cave/
No. 13 Baby
The last couple of minutes of this Pixies song describes so many moments of my life. Or maybe it actually starts ten seconds or so later, when the electric guitar kicks in, and that melody washes over and over again, crashing through saltwater thoughts, receding then after melting through all that hard-packed sand on the shore of my outer consciousness. There’s another song that is like this for me…Built to Spill’s “Kicked It In The Sun”….the last three minutes or so….swirling guitar and staccato drums at odds with each other, yet still working together to translate into feelings what words cannot ever seem to do. It’s always music that’s the savior…smoothing out the sharp edges…making sense of that which cannot be explained using the blunt tools of language. As Black Francis sings, “I’m in a state…I’m in a state…I’m in a state…”
Posted by sean on December 3, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/12/03/no-13-baby/
a morning
As the train approaches, a small flock of birds gathers overhead, then settles into two trees. On board, everyone is reading. I, however, am listening and looking. One woman reads Rumi. A man reads a book called Ontologies in Medicine. Two people read the Bible in languages other than English. The man in front of me works on a Sudoku puzzle. A woman toward the front begins a conversation on one of those annoying walkie-talkie phones. The man’s voice on the other end squawks abrasively into the train. The woman responds gleefully. “Hi, how are you? I am on the light rail and am broadcasting our conversation to everyone on the entire train! Isn’t that so exciting?” (Actually I can’t hear her because I am listening to Wilderness at high volume, but these are the words I enjoy putting into her mouth). The woman across from her doesn’t seem to think it’s that exciting. She begins with dirty looks each time a transmission comes through the phone. Then she rapidly advances to dirty looks and a shake of the head. After that, she looks around in frustration to see if anyone else is annoyed. Either no one else cares, or they are doing a damn good job of hiding it. The phone woman gets off at North Ave and a man and woman get on. The man is in a motorized wheelchair and is missing the lower half of his left leg. He holds a bottle of what looks like urine. Off the train at Lexington, crescendoes rushing in my ears, clouds obscuring the sun. Rain is coming. And I forgot my umbrella. I walk. Everyone is smoking. On the sidewalk a crushed tiny plastic cup erupted its contents in stages: ketchup smeared like blood, obscene on bone white concrete. Farther along are ankles so thin they could snap. A face turns with startling beauty. Inside, I am loath to pause this soundtrack, to disrupt this rhythm. But that was just the prelude.
Posted by sean on November 24, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/11/24/a-morning/
fundamental rules of bike commuting part one
A fundamental rule of bike commuting: on any two contiguous days on which an equal or similar chance of rain is predicted, if a cyclist suits up in full rain gear on one day then it will not rain no matter how dark and stormy the sky may appear and, in fact, the sun will likely break through the clouds causing profuse sweating underneath said rain gear; conversely, if on the other day the same cyclist does not suit up in rain gear, it will invariably rain a considerable amount, thus ensuring a fresh waterlogged professional appearance at work.
The phrase “slight chance of showers” is an empty meaningless phrase and should heretofore be banished from meteorological parlance.
Posted by sean on November 6, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/11/06/fundamental-rules-of-bike-commuting-part-one/
balance
I desperately needed time in the woods today. Lately there had been too much time spent in urban centers, too much time spent in cars, too much plane travel, too much time away. I find it necessary to stay in tune with what the birds are doing. I find comfort in their activities. The simple beauty of their lifestyle makes sense to me. I hear the sweet rhythm in how they live. But when I turn my ear to my fellow human beings I hear erratic discordant noise. The unpredictability of it all sets me on edge. I watch the birds search for food and then I watch people drive faster and faster in metal boxes along strips of pavement. Where is the sense in that? Birds seek food and shelter, they travel to warmer climes for winter, and back north again to raise families. People walk through the woods, coarse and loud, talking crassly on their cell phones. We violate the places where wildlife struggle to make their homes, over and over in increasingly egregious ways. When I enter the woods, I think of it as a chapel. Here we are silent, here we are respectful, here we do our best to make a minimal impact. Here we observe quietly. The birds are easier to see in the fall as the trees shed their leaves. But it’s harder to sneak up on them, when you are crunching on those fallen leaves. It was a perfect day to be in the woods. The golden light spread through the trees and fell upon everything below. I soaked it up. I rested and recovered. I breathed deep. And then I strode unwillingly back out into the madness.
Posted by sean on October 31, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/10/31/balance/
chicago
Chicago was failed planning, and thus subsequent testing of my adaptability. I passed, but not without a few pinholes in my psyche. Chicago sometimes made me question my desire to travel. Chicago was awkward networking with persons interested in alternative media and, hopefully, the quality indexing of such media. Goose Island Harvest Ale failed to lubricate the pipes much, but it sure tasted good. Chicago was actually full of many moments of awkward social interaction or lack thereof, thus proving once again that I usually think too much and speak too little. Chicago was gray, except when it was occasionally sunny. Chicago was the Harold Washington Library, nice but not what I expected. Chicago was a man complaining loudly on the El about delays: “Every time it’s apologies. We don’t want your apologies!” I wish you could’ve heard the inflection in his voice. It was impressive. Chicago was me stuffing my face at the Chicago Diner and then washing it down with a vegan milkshake. Chicago was walking along Lake Michigan. Chicago was the humidity of primeval ferns. Chicago involved a lot of walking, and some use of public transportation. Chicago made me wish I had my bike with me. Chicago meant finally making it to Quimby’s. Chicago was a cup of good green tea. Chicago was a board meeting. Chicago was this bakery. Chicago was spending time with old zine friends and their amazing son. Chicago was a Viking warrior on the Red Line. Chicago was way too big to see much of in two days. But it made me want to go back.
Posted by sean on October 30, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/10/30/chicago/
illegal dumping
This morning I tried to wrap my head around the concept of illegal dumping. Why do people dump trash illegally on the side of the road? Of course we all have things in our basement we’d like to throw out, but there are typically many different systems in place to deal with these things: bulk trash days, open hours at the landfill, private trash collection services, the free page on Craig’s List, etc. As I rode down one of the less traveled roads of my commute this morning, I came upon some city sanitation workers cleaning up a large pile of trash that had been sitting just off the shoulder for a few weeks. They were using a big dump truck and a tiny front-end loader. How many of my city tax dollars go toward this sort of thing? If you are going to take the trouble to drive to some deserted location in order to dump some trash, why not go a few miles further and take it to the dump? What I also find fascinating is that once one person dumps a few things in one spot, more items begin to appear almost instantly. An old stove is soon joined by a beat-up sofa, then a stained mattress box-spring, and so on. It’s like the first person’s criminal activity validates the next person’s. I want to interview these people and explore their reasoning. Is it that they have no problem with breaking the law, but they are considerate enough to keep all the trash in one sprawling pile as opposed to multiple piles spread out over a several-mile stretch of road? Or do they think that the trash itself has acquired squatter’s rights, and that this is now an official mini-landfill?
There are very few businesses on this road I ride on. One of them is a roofing company. Suddenly one day a pile of trash appeared next to their facility. Within a few days, the pile had grown quite high. Eventually they cleaned it up and posted a big sign proclaiming no illegal dumping, and warning that the location was under police surveillance. I was dubious about the potential of this sign to ward off dumpers, given that it was scrawled in childlike writing with blue spray paint, and that they gravely misspelled the word “surveillance.” Sure enough, recently I noticed that a discarded child’s car seat along with some other trash had appeared next to the roofing company. Soon these items welcomed a soiled mattress into their midst, and once again the pile has begun to grow.
Posted by sean on October 29, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/10/29/illegal-dumping/
another apocalyptic dream
This time it was a massive flood. I was not among people I knew. Everyone was really poor. I seemed to have some type of mental deficiency. I almost drowned several times. There seemed to be no way out. Every time I thought I’d gotten to safe ground, another wave of water came crashing toward me. Eventually I found myself up above it all with some others. A woman came and told us that there were Army trucks nearby to take us to safety. But that they were charging each person $10. The people I was with responded with snarky remarks like, “Well, isn’t that typical.”
Another dream: I was working at my old library. The director told me and a coworker we had to go down to these branches in the southern part of the county (my old library didn’t have branches), and perform a variety of tasks, including giving people their evaluations and teaching classes on some computer program that I’ve never even heard of. My coworker was given other tasks to do at other branches. I was like, how are we going to get all this done when I don’t even have a car? And how can I give someone an evaluation when I don’t even know them or work with them? And how can I teach a computer class on a program I’ve never even heard of?
Posted by sean on October 15, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/10/15/another-apocalyptic-dream/
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
There was a family of Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers in the yard yesterday! Three of them to be exact. Sapsuckers drill holes in trees and lick the sap that flows out, as well as eating the cambium of the tree. Other bird species make use of the sapsuckers’ handiwork, making them a “keystone” species. Some eat the insects that are drawn to the flowing sap. BTS and I had just spotted a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker for the first time the other day while birding in the park nearby, so it was exciting to find them in the yard a week later.
Posted by sean on October 12, 2008
https://sd-stewart.com/2008/10/12/yellow-bellied-sapsucker/









