Family Ties

My Dad loves Chicago as much as I do, maybe even more.  His Dad grew up on the South Side and some of my favorite memories as a kid are of them recounting times they had in Chicago together.  My Dad passed their love of the Windy City down to me by bringing me here as often as possible when I was young and it totally worked-  my love of this city borders on obsessive.

When I’m on my way to or from work, wandering around or doing something fun, I’ll sometimes snap pics on my phone and send them to my Dad.  Judging from his email responses (the above pic was deemed “the best one to-date” this morning), I think he gets a kick out of seeing what I see every day.  We don’t get to see each other as often as I’d like and I love this way of connecting on that day-to-day level that, as adults, most of us don’t get to have anymore.  I’m very close with my father and living in Chicago makes me feel even closer to him, particularly when we’re talking about one of the pictures I’ve sent.  Shared vantage point, I suppose.

I also think he likes getting the photos because he knows where his little girl is and that she’s safe (I don’t think I’ll ever get too old for him not to worry about that).

Chicago has always felt like home, in that down-in-your-bones, 100%, deep-breath-kind of way, even before I lived here.  Maybe that’s why- because Chicago was home for my family way before I was ever a part of anything.

Back.

This cabana is where Ryan and I spent the last 4 days.  We filled our time with really important things like reading magazines, swimming in the ocean, playing some ball game thingy I bought at Publix, swimming in the ocean, eating seafood and making cocktails.  Tough weekend, ya know?  It was fabulous and exactly what we needed.

Speaking of eating, Ryan taught me how to attack one of these guys during our dinner at a place known on the Island as “The Tiki Bar”:

I’ve had lobster before, I love lobster, but have traditionally been more of a tail girl so this was a first for me.  Dating a Marylander, a land where people are apparently obsessed with cracking open crabs, I can’t get away with pre-prepared shell animals anymore.

Having extended summer just one more weekend and relaxed more than I thought possible, I am back in Chicago and ready to take on fall.  I feel like I’m on project mode after having so much time to devour magazines and write and bounce ideas off Ryan all weekend.  I have all of these bare walls in our bedroom and I’m thinking of taking over one of them with this:

I love the idea of gathering my favorite photos and paintings, putting them in plain frames, throwing in a silhouette or two and creating a border of sorts.

I’m also loving on this ring (I do love a monogram), the InStyle Look of the Day app and I’m pretty sure these boots will eliminate any question of if I can wear black and brown together.

Like I said, way too many magazines were read this weekend…

Whether it’s back to school, back to work, back to whatever- I’m happy to be back in action in Chicago.

Every Body Needs a Home

Yoga mat strapped to my back, I tapped my foot impatiently as the Brown Line train I was riding crept along.  It probably knew that I had a noon class to make it to.  I got off the train 5 minutes before yoga was supposed to begin.  I didn’t want to be that girl who walked late into a zen environment only to ruin the calm vibe with the plopping down of her mat and water bottle.  Sigh. No yoga for me–to Trader Joe’s I go.  While going to put more money on my CTA card, I saw a sign for Yoga House.  I had heard this studio opened only a few weeks before and was looking forward to trying it but wasn’t sure exactly where it was located.  Well, here is was–740 N. Franklin.  And there was even a class starting right that second.  It was too much of a sign to not go in and see what Yoga House was all about.

Yoga House is the rebirth of the Melanee Cooper Gallery.  Melanee was in the art business for over 20 years and started practicing yoga 10 years ago.  Suddenly, she found herself structuring her work around her practice.  She had this beautiful space, felt yoga was art in itself and wanted to share that passion with others.  Yoga House was born.

Their mantra is “Every Body Needs a Home” and that’s exactly what it felt like–home.  I’d been having a hard time quieting down the “busyness” in my head that day–work stuff, to-do lists, more to-do lists, should I be feeding my cat organic cat food, should I be drinking more water, you know–hamster wheel brain.  But going into that studio felt like I had found the most silent space in Chicago.  The quiet rumble of the train. a lone fountain in the studio and some pranayama breathing later and I had lassoed in the stillness and contentment I had so been craving.  I was fortunate  to have Melanee lead my practice.  The class was fantastic–practicing yoga in a former art gallery is now my new favorite thing.  Beautiful hardwood floors, perfect lighting, amazing art still on the walls, a lovely little fountain that convinces you that the hustle and bustle you see outside on the street is nothing but an illusion–Yoga House is on to something.  Probably because it is so evident that Melanee is living her passion and you can’t help but feel good being around that, ya know?

By the time I got home, Melanee had emailed my descriptions of all of her teachers and I cannot wait to try their classes as well.  You should too.  I’ll see you there–I’ll be the girl in the corner who doesn’t want to leave.  740 N. Franklin, Chicago, IL 60654 www.yogahousechicago.com