Chitown Day 2: Orange in Wrigleyville, Ipsento, & Eggplant at Lincoln Hall

A barista whose name I do not know places in front of me a warm cup of something beautiful. The cream on top forms two scrolling heart patterns. I am delighted. It is the kind of cup of coffee you see the Hollywood stars sipping but that someone special has to hook you up with. More on the coffee later (at Ipsento, coffee making is not just an occupation, but an actually art as my pictures of the cafe will demonstrate). I sat on a comfy little sofa facing the large studio window as rained pattered against the sidewalk where a hippy smoked a cigarette. I scribbled notes for about fifteen minutes when a tall man with a motorcycle helmet, leather jacket, and briefcase walked in. He called the same barista by name and took a seat across from me. He was charming. Smiling, he picked up a piece of paper in the shape of a "W" and waved it in front of his own face.
"Your name wouldn't be Wendy or something would it?" he asked me. Smiling, I shook my head no and offered to move my camera, notebook, and phone from the coffee table as he set up his own work supplies, a laptop and phone. We sat there, across from one another for a half hour when Georgia walked in and addressed the both of us. His name is Nate Heldman, a social entrepreneur who has called Bucktown/Wicker Park his home for seven and a half years. But I cannot get carried away and write the article now. We talked about everything from tattoos, re known Mexican and Peruvian restaurants, Christian ministries, and photography. Oh...and of course the lovely neighborhood he resides in and I fell in love with.

It was an in dependant adventure, all together terrifying and wonderful. Once I had figured out where I was, North Damen Street, I paced the sidewalks up and down while snapping photographs of flower boxes, whole food markets, coffee shops, and beauty salon workers on cigarette breaks. Passer byers acknowledged me with a friendly wave followed by a warm, "Hi there". I felt at home despite the fact I was completely lost. Even from the pictures I could have written an entire article, but the interview with Nate helped me go beyond just the outer layer of what this neighborhood really is and all it stands for. At first glance the perfect word to describe it would be "urban". I'll keep you hanging, however. The real words are far from the simple adjectives such as urban or trendy. There is magnificent history behind the ivy, stone buildings and flower boxes.

The day began much differently, however. Far from magical, me and two other students roamed aimlessly about the streets of Wrigleyville feeling like drowned rats. We wanted to eat at the breakfast cafe called Orange, known for their cinnamon bun pancakes and scrambled eggs adorned with pesto and mozzarella. We stood in contemplation for several seconds outside of a small corner unit with the same address but a different name, Hang Easy. Reluctantly, and only because the price was decent and the sprinkling rain turned into torrential downpour...we walked in. Lets just say that this little breakfast joint will not be appearing on my "Top Ten Must See" list.

The end of the day was, well, an experience. My second interview of this trip was scheduled for after the show at Lincoln Hall. The good part of my evening was a Parmesan and eggplant sand which and constant laughter and joking with my journalism friend, Victoria. I was there to interview The Hudson Branch for my "Emerging Young Artists" in Chicago. Expecting another six pages of brilliant chicken scratch, what I got instead were one word answers, jokes, and a few sad excuses for elaboration from six band members who I suspect were high. Fed up and feeling very unprofessional in my surroundings (a bar filled with drunk thirty year olds), I perched myself comfortably on one leg while I rested my chin on top the other. Sighing, I doodled hearts and butterflies while pretending to record their responses and jokes back and forth. The whole time I remembered Anne Ford's (a free lancer living in Chicago) words: there is nothing worse than a terrible interview and trying to make a story from bullshit. I have not lost complete hope yet, however. If I can, I would like to connect with other, perhaps more helpful, music artists. If not, I might toss this story aside and focus on something else I hope to discover today, in China town.

And that was my second day filled with discovery, brilliance, disappointment, laughter, and at the end of the day...a LOT to joke about.

More on Chinatown tomorrow,
Alissa