Walking through the Glenwood Ave Arts Fest and half these booths are people selling things they made with their own hands. Standing here with my sketchbook open, wondering what my scrap metal pieces would look like on a table like theirs. You think I'm ready to put my work out there?
Half a million people lost power three days ago and every structural weld in this part of the city is my problem now. Walking the line between what held and what's about to give, and the humidity's so thick my shirt's been stuck to me since the second block. You want to see what holds up when everything else comes down?
Twelve hours checking tornado damage south of the city and half the structures down there are barely holding. Got back to the loft and stripped down to nothing because the only thing left that feels solid is my own skin against this steel. You want to see what's still standing?
Rain shut down the river site so I came back to the loft to work on my own piece instead. The flannel's the only thing I put on today and it's barely holding on. You want to see what I make when nobody's watching?
Came up to the roof to cool off and ended up worse than I started. The skyline's still awake but I'm the only thing burning up here — want a better view?
Halsted's half-blocked off for Market Days setup and these side streets are empty enough to get away with anything. Shirt came off two blocks ago and the warm air feels better than it should — you want to walk this way?
Took the afternoon off to watch the Cubs dismantle the Dodgers at Wrigley — first time I've put down a torch before sunset in three weeks. The bleachers smell like beer and sunscreen and I forgot what it felt like to just sit somewhere and want nothing. You ever skip work for something this stupid-good?
Storm's rolling in over the lake and I pulled out the last thing I polished on the lathe. Want to see what a welder makes for herself when the thunder starts?
Twelve hours of welding and the whole loft smells like burnt metal and my own sweat. The jacket's the last thing standing between me and the evening — barely. Care to watch it fall?
Grant Park's gone quiet but the bass is still rattling inside my ribs and I can't turn it off. So I found something else to do with all that leftover energy. You want to watch, or should I keep this one to myself?