The Printers Ball

Last week I participated in the 3six5 Chicago project.

You can read my post, on ChicagoNow, here.  They are still in need of Chicago authors for later this year, so any writers out there, send them an e-mail!

I was so taken by the whole idea – of writing a personal, casual post in under 365 words, that I decided to do one for days when I do something interesting. Which isn’t that often.

The following is the text I wanted to include in the post, but couldn’t, because it came out to more than 365 words.

I am home now, from the Printer’s ball. “Much fun was had” is an adequate descriptor. I collected free bits of paper like a mad fiend. At the time I imagined throwing them in the air and dancing in slow motion –no, not really, I collected them to make collage art: the lazy art, the art that uses my hands – a preference because Photoshop is also on the magic electronic box.

Later in the evening the results of my foraging– the pamphlets, journals, or magazines that I took two (or three) of because of the graphics or paper–makes my back ache. My bounty is held in one place by a newly purchased linen bag hanging off my shoulder. It dug into the skin.

Sobering up, I realize the follies of drinking on an empty stomach. I also realize why the young man in a baseball cap got as upset as he did — it is not my fault the baseball cap did not fit the daper niceness of the rest of his ensemble. No need for bitchiness…

I felt old among the smelly youth, but young against the mothers with their daughters.

The Printer’s Ball was even like a fairy tale — I lost a large fake jewel from the top of my sandal.

I purchased a piece of art, had honest interactions with good people, and enjoyed cheesecake at Eleven City Diner.


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