There was warmth on that day. There was light. There was shadow. It was a day of balances and strange, beautiful contradictions. It was a summer day, and so there were brides and grooms, gaggles of bridesmaids and men in suits with flowers pinned to their lapels. There were seagulls, pigeons, and an unexpected (urban-adapted) congregation of red-winged blackbirds. I’m sure there were caterpillars and other intriguing larvae, but I saw only large things on a day of strange balances. As I walked with Corey through Millennium Park, I caught the smell of chlorine and heard the jagged, bouncing sound of laughter. The glass block towers with imbedded LEDs were active, spewing water from hidden pipes and flashing human faces across their…well…across their faces. The sculptures were the interactive focal point of the day: places where families on Saturday afternoon outings got wet in efforts to cut summer’s heat. In walking away from the light-show fountain towers, I noticed dappled tree shadows, moving as if in time to some unheard song. I saw people strolling and pausing to look at globs of buffed aluminum, or gold pigs suspended from cranes…the pig (a sow, actually) hung by one leg, as a man clasped it, hanging on for dear life. A woman clung to the man. The sculpture—I can’t remember the name—was the brain-child of a young, Chinese artist. It raised eyebrows, and caused people with non-Chicago accents to declare: “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to think of that!” The suspended sow and dangling humans didn’t draw my attention so much as the people walking by it. At times, reactions to art are more interesting than the art itself; this is the point, in some cases. If art—in my opinion—doesn’t provoke a strong response (or at least a pause) then it’s little more than decoration. There’s nothing wrong with that. I like a good bit of decoration as much as anyone else. But I feel that if you’re going to make a sculpture (especially of a sow) then it should raise eyebrows. As I snapped this picture, I was intrigued by the light and the shadows at play. I’d seen the suspended pig and people, and declared (for that day at least) that it would be better to photograph in winter; it would stand out more; it would have snow and dull gray skies to heighten its garish red and gold colors. And so I contented myself with those looking at the statue. I contented myself with shadows and light in a complex, dappled dance…I marveled at the sheer number of non-Chicagoans clotted and crammed into so small an open space. For a moment, I felt as if I might have been in Prague: a city of foreigners and strange statues. It was a good feeling, and I wonder how much of it I captured in this particular image. I wanted to capture a mood more than an image, and so I tweaked this image as much as I dared in order to make it…well…less photographic. This is the result and I hope you enjoy it. And, as always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re at the start of a restful and fun weekend.