Chicago Parks District Toilet Water Not Safe for Drinking

A hairy man in a black floral women's swimsuit adjusts his Goldilocks wig before he picks up his bags again.  His lipstick is smeared, but the sunbathers he meets excuse it, maybe because of his sex, or it could be his spirited bounce.

"Hey girl," he shouts as he approaches each group.  "Hey girl! You all look beautiful today!"

"Thank you," the ladies yell back.

"How do I look?"

"Oh, you look good, honey."

Toward the men, he is more physical. "You're so cute, I have to kiss you on the cheek.  Mwah! Now you'll never want to wash this cheek again."

He chats, he poses for pictures, and he moves on to talk to other beachgoers.  He's not the only compelling sight at Kathy Osterman (aka Hollywood) Beach today.  Nervous paddleboarders try to stay up on the water, fit teenage lifeguards patrol the shore, and neverending volleyball games rage across four nets. Kite-flyers try to catch a breeze.  A young woman videotapes her "ice bucket challenge" using the leftovers of a cooler.  Across the waterfront, adventurous costumes flourish.

And the restroom offers still more to see.  Above a toilet, the Chicago Parks District has posted:  "This fixture is flushed with harvested rainwater. Not safe for drinking."

Though people are unlikely to drink from toilets anyway, the notice does draw attention to the city's venture into sustainable amenities.  The award-winning bathrooms designed by Wahaso "harvest rain water for use in flushing toilets, are vented and cool
ed naturally by lake breezes, and are 100% naturally day lit through the use of solar skylight tubes."  Though the water is sanitized against microbes, the system uses ultraviolet (UV) disinfection instead of chlorine so that there is no residual for the disinfection to continue working.  Also, the water is not treated for other impurities, and the pH of natural rainwater is somewhat acidic.  However, it's still perfectly safe to flush toilets.


What's the craziest thing you've ever seen at the beach?

Social Fiber! at the Chicago Cultural Center

A worthy message at an interactive studio

I know what feels off about Monica Neuland’s studio in the Garland Gallery of the Chicago Cultural Center. It’s too orderly. One can simply move around freely between the three looms, the neatly arranged books, the wall of yarn, and the samples of foreign rugs. Not like our mothers’ wild sewing nooks, with their bright carpets of jumbled thread and cast-aside half-quilted Christmas table runners, this room is divided into stations.

But if the studio design doesn’t bring kaleidoscopic delight, Neuland’s fantastic wardrobe and ebullient manner more than compensate. Her blond hair wrapped in a blue scarf and clear eyes focused on the guest, she welcomes the visitor with a chain of words spinning into a passion for the craft. She does not discuss her own “process”, but rather the global context of textile arts. “Once you learn to spin wool, you’ll never want to stop. It’s meditative. Women in India just walk around in the marketplace spinning. This is how they’ve done it for thousands of years.” Reaching over to help a participant unwind a tight thread, she instructs, “You have to feel the energy with your fingertips.”

On the other side of the room, a little girl in pink holds a captive audience at a loom. Neuland encourages her across the room, “Ruth, you woke up this morning, and you wanted to try weaving. Now you’re already giving demos. You keep this up, you’ll be president by tomorrow.” Ruth ducks her head to hide her smile. Neuland then turns to a woman at the book table and thanks her for returning.

This ability to work a room and her sense of inclusion are what make Neuland a good teacher, and able ambassador of public art to “people from communities experiencing bedrock poverty.” Over the remaining weeks of the residency, the artist plans to invite diverse groups of underserved to reach a goal of three thousand participants. However, people from all walks of life and backgrounds are also welcome. Visitors are encouraged to bring in their spare yarns and fabric, and help create a textile that will be eventually sewn into a tent to create “awareness of the breakdown of the connective tissue of life.”

So if the studio is not cozy enough, it is to leave space for everyone. When you find yourself downtown, stop in at the Chicago Cultural Center and help create our art.