BACK TO THE GO
My niece was hanging out in my office last week when her dad came in and asked her to stand up straight against the wall over there. He aimed the tip of a Sharpie just above her head and drew a solid black line directly on the green-painted wall behind her (a benefit of running your own business that I have taken full advantage of, as seen below.)
Snoop-a-Loop
The date, ‘7/1’26’ accompanied the black line. It was both a measurement and the start of a tradition.
It’s only been a week since that mark was made, and any growth since is likely not yet measurable. But rest assured; she is growing, day by day. Despite it happening right in front of our eyes, we likely won’t notice it until the next mark is made, whether it be next month or next year.
The following afternoon I flew through Chicago on the way Home (capital H) for the holiday. I usually go through Charlotte, so this was my first time taking the Chicago route in almost five years. As I looked through the photos that I took on my layover this time around, something occurred to me:
O’Hare is my ‘measuring wall’ and this post is my newest mark on it.
See, that 2021 trip was an infamous one for me. My flight to Cedar Rapids was canceled, which ultimately kicked off a two-state, three-day bender that brought my drinking career to an end, rightfully and permanently. Simply put, I went so hard that weekend that it literally changed my life.
I took pictures along the way and wrote about it afterwards, as I’ve been doing for years now, and in my mind’s eye I thought they were pretty good. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those were Sharpie lines on the wall; measurements to be compared to at a later date.
Well, today is that date.
I just read those 2021 blog entries - first from the airport, then the night that ensued - and guess what? They’re terrible! It’s harder to read than a doctor’s handwriting. It was clunky, shallow, and hideously formatted.
The growth since then is painfully evident.
I could, of course, go back at it with a red pen. It is a pretty good story, after all. I could sharpen the blog posts up (at least make them readable, Jesus) and re-format the pictures in a vastly more visually appealing way. I could easily make them better.
But that isn’t the point. I will leave it exactly as it is, because I want the growth to be clear and measurable.
It makes no sense to scratch old marks off the wall, boldly claiming: No, no, guys I swear - I’ve always been this tall.
So how do you measure growth when it comes to art?
Well with photography you can look at the technical stuff: composition, framing, balance. Focal points, movement, color theory. The textbook, measurable things that can be critiqued by contest judges, professors and professionals alike.
All those components - while boring to talk about - are important and definitely do factor into creating better photos. But you don’t need an art degree from Chicago-Loyola, or even need to know what a focal point is, to see the improvement.
Just look at them.
I’m simply better at this now.
As I should be! I’ve had five more years of practice. Half a decade of blood, sweat, tears and photos.
I finally got a ‘professional’ camera. I quit drinking poison. I put the work in, and you can see it; clear as Sharpie on a wall.
It’s symbolic, symbiotic, and circular. I had returned to the place where it all went haywire, and because it all went haywire, I’m a better person than when I left it.
“Full circle, like everything I ever did”
I’ve not just improved as a writer and a photographer. I am better. I’m more present. I don’t waste time. To start a day hungover is to not be grateful for the time you’ve been given on this earth, so I haven’t done that since I last left O’Hare.
Over that nearly-five-year span I became a better co-worker, a better uncle, and a better friend (I pride myself as the most reliable designated driver in America; I’ll probably be 3-5 minutes late but you can [literally] bet your life I’ll get you home safe.)
I started doing yoga (because I’m old now). I started dating someone who is incredibly impressive. I picked up golf, then let it go; then picked up Italian, and let that go as well (I’ll eventually get back to both). I do puzzles, I read books, I write letters. I started designing and creating custom hoodies for myself (year-long blog coming soon). I installed a recording studio in my home office and started writing raps again. I shoot hoops, I build Legos, I ride my bike; the things that made me who and what I am; I’m doing again. And it feels good.
Also in that half-decade window I’m blessed to have been around the world, from St. Louis to Iceland to Savannah to Italy. I’ve seen things I never dreamt of and found solace in some of the most beautiful locations on earth. Travels that have helped me to finally be at peace with the decisions that lead me to where I am now, both geographically and spiritually.
You need to leave to come back, and I had done a lot of leaving since I came back to O’Hare. I was different; changed, for the better. There’s no arguing it. The new mark on the wall was much, much higher than the last.
“Been around the board, now I’m back to the Go”
Up to this point, this entry probably looks like a lot of patting myself on the back - and you’re not necessarily wrong. But I said all of that as a revelation; to myself and hopefully to you as well.
I hope you, reader, take this time to reflect - like the uber-clean floors of O’Hare International - and look at how far you’ve come. Take a moment, take inventory, and take pride, as I just did. It feels good.
Sometimes we lose sight of the growth, the same way Ava’s next mark will shock me even though I see her all the time. It can slip through, it can go unnoticed, especially if you’re really focused. Step back, stand up straight, and take a new measurement.
Recognize how tall you are now.
There were so many instances in the last five years that I could have used a wider view, taken a step back to add a new mark on the wall. But time flies, the world turns, and I work hard. So I lost sight; many, many times.
Here is a reminder to you, to remind yourself.
“Every once in a while I gotta remind myself”
Unlike the 2021 trip, my connecting flight made it to CR just fine and I remember every second of the trip. (I will write about the recent visit and all the glorious signs from the universe that came along with it in my next post.)
But I know if that connecting flight was cancelled again, I’d be just fine. I learned from my mistakes. I got better.
“Nice hat, asshole.”
I don’t know when I’ll be back to O’Hare again, but it has a special spot in my heart; it’s my measuring wall.
I do know this; whenever I do make it back there, I’ll have my Sharpie with me and I can’t wait to see how much I’ve grown.
Thank you for reading and God Bless.