Postcards!

Hey guys,

This is what we have for the postcards. Check to make sure that the spelling of your name is correct!

Also, if you have a preference of which design you like better, let me know!

GPS Drawing

We drove through every drive-thru on North Ave, from the intersection on North and Oakland to North and 67th. This is what we ate, so what?

Doors Open Milwaukee

I chose to visit the Grain Exchange on Michigan St for Doors Open Milwaukee. I have always been intrigued by these two buildings on Michigan St because they are so decorative and ornamental compared to most of the buildings around them. I had heard of the Grain Exchange, but I didn't really know a thing about it. I was surprised to find a large, equally ornamental and decorative room. The tour guide told our group about some of the history of the room, that the grain exchange was sort of like a stock market, but with actual grain. It was interesting to me to see the agricultural aspect of Milwaukee and Wisconsin in such an urban setting. I'm extremely glad I had the opportunity to be inside such a beautiful room with such an important history.

Micro Macro

The place that stirred the most thought for me was the stretch of the Riverwalk that's under the highway overpass. The Riverwalk kind of weirds me out because it's well maintained, and well designed, but the Milwaukee River itself is so dirty and full of trash. I did a little research on the Riverwalk and found this passage from the city's website:

"Wisconsin’s Public Trust Doctrine places all lakes and streams in trust for the benefit of all citizens to use for commercial navigation, pleasure boating, sailing, fishing, swimming, skating, rowing, walking, and the enjoyment of scenic beauty. . . the $11 million project . . . the Historic Third Ward RiverWalk has won several design awards since it opened, including a 2007 American Institute of Architects Honor Award for Regional and Urban Design."

As nice as it is to have a public space near the river, it seems to me that the river itself could use some cleanup.

For my intervention, I decided to make this disconnect between the River and the Walk more apparent. My guesture was a simple one, to make a long straw that leads from the Riverwalk into the river. I certainly did not want people to drink the water, merely to remember how disgusting this river is, amid this sculptural staircase and heavily landscaped area, both of which look expensive. For this piece to be more successful, I think I would have to be a little less genuine with the materials in order to have a more successful visual piece, the straws were just not strong enough.

Abby Malesytcki: Personal/Public

Latitude: 43° 1'32.39"N
Longitude: 89°26'4.58"W

I grew up in Madison, Wisconsin. Right across the street from my house, there's this little "conservation park", called the Knollwood. My bedroom window faces the entrance. The park is neighbors to the much larger, much more impressive University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum, but the two parks are separated by a fence (which has been cut so the two parks have an access point). I don't know why the Knollwood is not considered part of the arboretum, perhaps its just too measly and insubstantial for them to want. There are hiking trails which become paths for cross country skiers in the winter, but not a whole lot else.

When I was younger, the park had a railroad track running through it and my sister and I would meet the neighbor girls out there whenever we heard a train whistle. We would run across the slightly decrepit wooden bridges over the meandering stream and lay pennies on the track. Terrified by the trains but simletaneously enthralled by the transformation the pennies would go through, we'd hide in the brambles and hope the conductor didn't see us. Once the train had hurried past, we'd go collect our smooth, misshapen treasures.

Around the same time that I entered middle school, the forest was "remodeled" by the city. The rotting wooden bridges were replaced with a concrete one, and the once free spirited stream was contained by strict, man made barricades. The railroad is out of service now too. It has been cleared away and a bike path has been put in its place. The park sees many more visitors than it ever had before and I'm slightly uncomfortable about it. When I was young, it always seemed like this park was ours. We could explore it, clear trails, and ice skate in the winter, and now it's much more common to see other people in our forest. The park has become so much more public, when it used to feel so private.

ABBY MALESYTCKI: 3 Days, 3 Ways

I chose to take my journeys as close to the river as possible. The river connects MIAD and the Holton Street Bridge so it made sense to me to remain faithful to it. Initially, I walked on the riverwalk. It’s a strange thing, the riverwalk, because it feels like I’m invading the personal space of the buildings on the river. A public space that feels private. Especially when walking along the riverwalk and there are people eating at restaurants around you, I feel like I’m a little kid, doing something I’m not supposed to be doing.

Again, the riverwalk is a weird thing. When walking under the interstate I felt again like I wasn’t supposed to be there. Here’s this nicely designed, kind of trendy riverwalk thing and then it goes under the highway. There are spider webs and cobwebs and I’m walking right past a construction site and the whole thing feels weirdly grimy. And then there are so many benches. Near these dirty bridges. Who is sitting in all these benches? Why are there so many? (I later came across a couple of people sitting along the river, but only downtown. One man was catching some zzzs.)

Something I’ve never noticed: There’s a house right where Water St turns and becomes Brady St that has a large fence. The yard around it is pretty over run with vegetation; trees, bushes, whatever. I guess I’ve never really considered what Milwaukee looked like before it was an urban space. Earlier, I noticed some pathetic attempts to make nature, that is, trees that were clearly planted to beautify the Third Ward and hide the less beautiful parking lots or truck yards around them. But this jungle house up by Brady St seemed so much more alive. So much more real.

During this first walk, early on, I noticed that one of the bridges had a lot of American flags on it, so I began counting them and continued throughout the trip; I found 157 American flags between MIAD and the Holton Bridge. 157!

For one of my walks (I walked twice, but I made a rule for myself, I can walk but only looking at the ground. It felt like a different mode of transportation to me ?) I kept my eyes focused on my feet as much as possible. When I had to cross intersections, I tried to take cues from the people waiting at crosswalks with me, or I would wait until the cars stopped. It was kind of bizarre, because I was the only thing in my field of vision – just my feet.

I don’t think I could ever get over all those little black spots on the sidewalk that are remnants of gum. Really, I don’t understand why cities universally (I assume?) have so many gum spots everywhere. Who is spitting out their gum every ten seconds? And why is all of the gum completely black, you never see a piece that’s mid transformation? I remember reading an article about an artist in England who was painting little paintings on all the gum blobs on the sidewalk in his neighborhood. What a good way to not only beautify something that’s vulgar but also bring attention to how incredibly frequent such spots are. Do they ever get cleaned off? Do they wear off?

THINGS I WALKED ON, WHILE WATCHING MY FEET: sidewalk, stairs (cement), road, grass, boardwalk, bench (wooden, metal), bricks, lines of the crosswalk, shadows, a place where someone spilled water, dirt, a wooden plank

My last travel was drastically different because I drove instead of walking. I also traveled at night this time. I love driving downtown at night because of the lights and the windows. There are so many windows in this city. There are so many people who look out of each and every one of those windows. Windows on buildings, on cars, on buses. Business people looking out of their offices and little kids looking out of their bedrooms.

Cars always make other drivers less human to me. I have no trouble getting incredibly angry over the smallest thing that another driver will do, but I can’t imagine getting as angry with another person face to face. Each little set of lights took on a personality to me when I was driving, but each car in reality had at least one person in it. These people were all driving downtown for the night and I couldn’t help but wonder, how many of these people are headed home? Who’s going to work the nightshift? Which of these people are having a terrible day? Are some of these people from out of town or do are all these people familiar with Milwaukee. I’m always territorial over places that I live. Milwaukee is my city because I live in it. In reality, all these people might live here too, all thinking Milwaukee is theirs. I kind of related this idea to Nato Thompson’s “We are the world and, in turn, the world makes us.” They might have different favorite restaurant or streets or places than me but this is their city as much as it is mine, all these faceless people driving their cars too slowly.