I have countless pictures of Chicago to post. I have stories on the back burner, two of which are intended for Renderosity readers. I have always held a particular fondness for the image here. It is of Prague--a city that has become home for me in so many ways. Upon my first arrival there, I'd felt as if I knew the place, as if I was already a part of it. I remember taking a cab from the airport to a hostel, one where I stayed only for a night; I'd made arrangements for an apartment, but arrived in Prague a day early. That is a long and somewhat humorous story that involves friends in Texas, and a number of cats, and homemade hummus from a recipe stolen from Reza's cousin. If you're ever in Dallas, go for Persian food at a place called "Ali Baba." If you like the food enough, the owner might give you the recipe. At any rate, I've always liked this particular image of Prague. It's a low angle shot, facing the Powder Gate. There are trucks in Prague that spray water in order to keep dust levels down. One had just passed, making it look as if there was rain. I found myself walking along Vodičkova Street, towards Wenceslas Square. Trams clattered their antique-sounding bells behind me, as I crouched to take this shot. Czech police, the ones in black (they look ominous!) ambled around, well armed and disinterested in anything that didn't immediately annoy them. In Prague, there are three species of police: the ones in black are the National Police, and you see them everywhere. They look military. There are also the City Police. They look like cops. And then, there are the Traffic Police. They administer tickets and yell at foreign drivers a lot: usually in rapid-fire, slang-riddled Czech. They gesticulate as madly as a shop-clerk who has just received a 1000 Crown note for something that only costs 100 Crowns...which is to say, it's theatrical. Czech is a rich language, full of wonderful, and unexpected physical nuances. I'm posting this now, because I've had contact two Czech friends, recently. One of those friends was Pavel (though he spells it Pavl). It's actually because of him that I'm posting this. He spoke of walking through Prague at night. He named familiar streets...Vodičkova...I.P Pavlova (pronounced EE. Peh. Pavlova)...Biskupcova...and others. I miss Czech streets, the poetry of their names, and their confusing spaghetti-tangle logic. Prague streets are contoured things, their names change at every intersection, and you hear tram bells everywhere. When I took this picture, I had just met Pavel, and since I spoke to him this morning, I'm re-posting this image now. Prague was a new place when I took the picture. Now, Prague is something else...a place to return to, especially when life in Moscow takes off. (Russian law demands that non-native residents apply for visa extensions and such, then LEAVE the country for a certain amount of time. So, during those times when I await my visa extensions, I plan to do so in Prague.) *** As always, thank you for viewing and commenting, and for those so moved, you can see the original post of this image: here *** As always, thank you for viewing and commenting, and for those so moved, you can see the original post of this image: here