In losing myself to overwhelming joy in the company of others, I also lost my camera (along with a series of pictures I would have very much liked to keep).

Sad.

Subtropical sunshine and swampland mosquitoes—two staples of this lovely city, their constancy punctuated with bouts of apocalyptic rain. This serves, of course, to saturate the air with moisture, more welcoming to those pesky—though surely ecologically important (can't hate)—insects. Walking feels like wading, splitting the dense wall of water that thickly fills the emptiness of air. The dense warm air suffocates.

Yet, physical discomfort is no match for some of Miami's best-hidden gems; perhaps hidden just to the few like me. Take, for instance, Midtown's Wynwood Arts District.


I have in the past said that the number of affordable and substantive activities available in Miami amount to spending hours online searching for them. This might be true time and again, but the monthly gallery walk (every second Saturday of the month, during which galleries open their doors from 7pm-11pm) is an exception; I say this emphatically. Whoever has the opportunity to visit, should.

Until last night, I was a stranger to Midtown. In fact, I know very little about it. What is evident, however, is that this part of Miami is undergoing redevelopment and is poised to become an urban haven. Residential complexes and commercial centers dot the city blocks. Fellow university peer David commented on the phone as I found parking, "This place is caught right in between being developed and not at all." Ignoring the sociocultural issues the second half of this sentence will highlight, I would describe Midtown and its adjacent art district as an oasis of beauty, activity, and culture set off against a fairly dilapidated background. I don't know enough about the dynamics of this area to conclude anything further.

I took a few pictures of the residential buildings and main shopping center.



The central courtyard at the Shops houses a fountain surrounded by three Britto sculptures, creating an association (on at least one level) between up and coming Midtown and internationally renowned SoBe (home of Britto Central). Here are some views of this:




A few blocks west of this lies the Wynwood Art District and its galleries. The walk's limited run did not afford enough hours to visit each gallery, but there was lovely contemporary art spanning myriad genres aplenty. Out of respect to authorship, given that it is difficult to judge an individual's stance on this, I limited my camera use within the galleries. I give you but a very limited sample (just one gallery and one artist, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten) of the artwork I saw.



Graffiti was not missing. The first gallery we visited impressed me before I'd stepped foot in it.


I found two other murals quite interesting.

This one, obviously, flanked train tracks on one side.


A detail:


I show you this one with and without flash. The color scheme remains interesting in each lighting.


Shortly after I had arrived, the streets swarmed with more life than I had expected. Large crowds danced in and out of galleries all night; they emptied and filled periodically, leaving periods of quiet solitude followed by periods of lively buzz and the collective enjoyment of art.


The evening closed impressively. A rare bout of "the right place at the right time" infected David and I as we found ourselves placed in the position of spectators to a performance of music and fire. Here are the night's final pictures:




A good time. An interesting place. Next time I find myself in Miami on the second Saturday of any month, I shall make sure to seek out what I missed this time. I am also quite curious as to the future of the Midtown/Wynwood area and the role it will play in (re)defining the city's urban image.

Now, will someone pass the Off!?

Independence Day 2009 has left its mark. Today I give you few words with a few pictures to compensate.

This is Hollywood Beach, FL.

I have never seen this strip of beach quite as full as it was yesterday. I apologize for not having better/more interesting pictures, but the day was beautiful and the crowd radiated a wonderful celebratory vibe.

If I am in Florida for next year's fourth of July festivities, I will make sure to hit this place up again and stick around for the 9pm fireworks display and other such fun. Join me.

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I have meant to take my camera around to take pictures, to put on here. A failed venture. Once I've charged my camera, something stimulating to the retina (beyond plain and sexy black & white) will be posted.

You guys keep me posted until then.

Delish day. Delish. Hm.

Well, good :]

A week into summer break has revealed the regressive influence of home; (just under) a year in school had me feeling like I'd grown up, but a week at home sends me back to high school. The familiar rules and expectations are like a slap on the face, insulting my "independence" (in quotations because the college situation is one of faux independence) and encroaching on my self-ownership. At the very least, I find comfort in the fact that I will be back in my beloved Chicago early August.

But, alas, I will refrain from complaining. There is little I can do but make the best of this.

On a slightly interesting note, I will share that I have been reading the manuscript of an unpublished book my father's friend wrote (and plans to rewrite for publishing in the coming years). It is a memoir, written close to twenty years ago, contextualized by the Cuban revolution. I don't suppose I should elaborate very much out of respect for this dear friend, who expressed his objections when informed I had been poring over his (ancient to him, I'm sure) words. Still, now that this draft has been dusted, I cannot pass up the opportunity to peruse; the published version will be no doubt infused with the wisdom of years, with a clarity that this version cannot have for lack of temporal separation from the events discussed. The years will have influenced his perspective, but his initial response—reactionary though it may have been—is valuable. I have the opportunity to bear witness, indirectly, to an evolution of thought and opinion regarding a period that has actively shaped all of whatever family history I am aware of.

Beyond that, I have set aside a few books to read this summer. A short list, in no semblance of order:

• Virginia Wolf's Orlando
• Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises
• Gabriel Gárcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude
• The Yeats Reader
• Cormac McCarthy's The Road
• The Essential Gwendolyn Brooks

Etc, etc. These are texts I have no excuse for not having read, but plan to right that wrong in the course of the next three months. I also plan on reading enough relevant texts to build a foundation for my classes next year (including my first English class at UChicago!).

With that, I have accomplished a feat—my first legit blog post in some time.

PS. What's up Matt Cluck?

Take #3,453.

I have done the blogging thing before. From that I learned:

• Updating frequently is hard work.
• It is difficult to come up with something interesting and worthwhile to post about.
• I talk a lot more about myself than any other topic; sometimes it's not so bad.

Nevertheless, here I am again. Attempt #3,453 (a completely arbitrary number, mind you). At least I found a decent layout.