the official site

So here’s the story. About five months ago I was surfing the internet, and somehow came across the music video for Hanson’s new song, “Thinking ‘Bout Somethin’”. (Side note: doesn’t it feel wrong to write a title with so many abbreviations?) I was instantly blown away. I must have watched it ten times in a row. It wasn’t just their obvious talent (i.e. their voices/songwriting ability/skills with multiple instruments) that got me, it was the subtle details throughout the video incorporating their sense of humor that I feel makes them such unique artists. Their unwavering devotion to their positive lyrics is a testament to their confidence. It’s refreshing to see young, talented musicians showcasing their passion for their craft in such an openly positive way. Giving off the impression that they don’t need to be tortured souls to make good art is bold in a time in the world when so much is going wrong. That along with the location choice and production design of the video is what really captivated me. Watching a video like that just makes you want to smile! So what did I do next? I wrote them a letter… a fan letter to be exact. It took quite some time to figure out how to write something that was short, concise, flattering without blabbering on, yet mature and respectable. I even called my dad a couple of times to have him proof read it, and then proof read it again. I’ve written many people in the past. When I like a director or a writer I generally write to them, letting them know. The only difference is that usually happens either right after or right before a meeting/audition has been set up. My letter to Hanson was nothing more than a fan letter. I am not a musician, so I couldn’t relate on that level, all I could do was tell them how much I appreciated their music, and hope one day they would read it. I waited and I waited for a reply. In fact I even tried tracking the letter through my agency (we are at the same agency) to see if they had received it. After four months, I got a response! I was over the moon! Not only did they write back to me, I was also invited to a show! Due to my relatively hectic schedule, it was difficult trying to figure out where and how this would happen, but as the saying goes, where there’s a will there’s a way. I spent hours on a genius website called tourtracker.com, to find out where they were playing. Unfortunately, they are only moving further and further away from me. So the story ends with this. On Saturday I am flying all the way across the country to Virginia, to see Hanson play, and I can’t wait!

-Nikki

My father started out as an architect, long before his career in set designing had a life. Like many boys, he followed in his father’s footsteps, which led him straight into the doors of architecture school. Although, in that particular profession it is unfortunately difficult for one to make a good living, it is still my father’s first love, and it’s very apparent when we travel together. Any time I discuss future travel plans with him, I’m usually coerced into visiting a place that has a deep-rooted architectural history. This past weekend I met him in Chicago. I landed at 7pm, expecting to have an early dinner followed by a movie. Boy was I wrong. The kind of enthusiasm that washes over his face the minute he steps into a city as rich with art and architecture as Chicago is comparable to that of a child. The excitement that comes over him is contagious and it fueled a 2 ½ hour walk around the city, dropping me off to sleep around midnight. Had I known that a three-mile walk was in store, I would have worn different shoes. We held hands and he told me every known fact about every building we passed in downtown Chicago, before making our way to the Cloud Gate sculpture at Millennium Park, also known as “the bean”. I don’t know exactly how many times he has visited this sculpture, but he was as fascinated as a first time viewer. This miraculous 30 foot high bean shaped sculpture, is made up of polished seamless steel plates which vividly reflect the city’s skyline, and anyone in it’s vicinity. It is truly remarkable. We then made our way to the equally impressive Crown Fountain. Although I was exhausted, I appeased my father and stood as the images rotated on this glass-composed structure, finally convincing him that I would appreciate it more when I was rested. He agreed, suggesting that we re-visit everything in the daytime, and from there we walked home.

The next day we went to the Art Institute. It’s quite a large museum, and one that I frequent anytime I am in town, yet somehow I always leave feeling like I haven’t spent enough time there. My favorite exhibit is that of the miniatures at the Thorne Room. Since childhood, I have been intrigued by small things, and as an adult, I am equally intrigued by the patience it must take to construct such small masterpieces. The precise detail that goes into each and every one is almost unfathomable. I was also particularly interested in the very impressive Roman reproductions of Greek sculptures, considering the many months I spent living in Greece last year.

I was so engaged in the artwork, that I forgot to photograph any of it. I took my camera out at the very end and snapped a few pictures of some pieces that spoke to me, but I tend to think that not having a camera can actually be somewhat of a blessing. It gives the mind a chance to absorb what it sees at the moment, as opposed to later on, after the pictures have been uploaded to a computer or put into an album. This was a realization I had when I was in Africa last year. I had spent so much time photographing the animals, and not enough time looking at them. Now I feel like every second I get to spend with my family is so valuable, that I try to fight my desire to live behind a camera, and instead just be in the moment, and observe. I’ve noticed that many times when I intend to capture some unforgettable, special moment with my camera, I actually end up missing the moment that means the most.