A long time ago I went to Chicago. I returned regularly for years to come, with little business even. It’s all a big gray area that belongs to someone I am not. I look at these pictures, because I can reminisce now, and I see the place where I was living. I see the people in the offices outside of my window, not close enough for faces. There I would sit, on the strip of mantle that lined our window, naked and painting my toes- occasionally glancing up to watch them watch me. There’s a certain dissonance in the height of it all, I couldn’t have been more than a piece of bubblegum. No person on the ground, all focused on collecting their crap and coffee, would ever recognize me as the girl who paints her toes naked in the window of 1505B.