Once upon a time, Czech things centered my attention; I saw black babies crawling up the side of a tv tower and extravagance of grotesque vultures not far from the American Embassy. I saw hedgehogs in kitchens, sniffing around in corners, and I saw old things…ancient things. Later, I saw rusty machine parts in a truck-yard, and the truck-yard was alive with crustaceans and gastropods, and fluctuating populations of canine security personnel. I saw shiny things and dead electronic things. Now, it would seem that walls dominate my life. I work in an area of Chicago now recognized as the Gallery District. I can walk from work to Reza’s: a significant place. I am surrounded by buildings of considerable age, as reckoned in a city as young as Chicago, and all of those buildings are massive, brick constructions. They’re sturdy. They’re unpretentious. They’ve aged just enough to settle comfortably into themselves. Though many have been meticulously restored (and reconstructed to a degree) they maintain a kind of architectural gravitas and they are, in a word, intriguing. They are, I suspect, the tellers of Chicago’s untold tales. Because of a fictional land: one dominated by strange things, I know that there are stories contained in Chicago. I know that the very bricks of the city might tell that story (and other stories, too.) I think of Agara when I see some of Chicago’s older buildings, and I’m quite sure that I’ll be returning to Agara quite soon. I feel something percolating. Something is happening. Yet again. Perhaps the brick-work of Chicago might tell me. This photo, as you can see, concerns itself with bricks and with graffiti. I used this photo in my previous gallery posting: it is the picture, framed behind the human focus of that digitally-tweaked image. It is less anachronistic than other imports into that manipulated photo. It is, however, obscure…hard to make out. It is more an implication than anything else. In looking at that gallery offering, I decided to follow it with this one. It is, as you can see, a wall, and—as the title of this piece implies—it is far away from the Emerald City, though not quite as far as you might think from a coffee house with the same name. I like this photo, because I like bricks. I’m sure that they say something, as in the logic of Agara, bricks are an alphabet, and walls are their own graffiti. I like the way Agarans think; their country is rich and strange; their cities are old and heavy. I’m glad I made them up, and as I plan to explore them a bit more in upcoming posts, I felt that it’s only fitting that I also post a picture that any Agaran (or anyone familiar with Agara) might recognize as potentially important. It’s fitting, as well, for this image to refer to its predecessor in my gallery. I have an entire folder of Walls, and there will be more in the future. Until then, here’s an alley-facing wall: an apex, if its graffiti is to be believed. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.