January 18, 2013 scottcjones 2Comments

My first apartment in Chicago was a sixth floor studio on West Roscoe. When the rental agent informed me that we were going to look at a studio—and this is embarrassing to admit—I immediately pictured a light-flooded loft with vaulted ceilings, cathedral windows and an industrial elevator, the type with doors that rolled up from the bottom and down from the top. I thought, Maybe I’ll put an easel in the corner and try my hand at oil painting. Maybe I’ll put up a basketball hoop and shoot baskets during my oil painting breaks. These were the sorts of activites that I…