Mike Hettwer Photography - Documentary, Archaeology and Dinosaur

826CHI Volunteer Photo Book: My World Project - Part 2: CHECKERING

Waffles meowed his head off until I opened my eyes.I know, buddy. Sorry I forgot to buy your food yesterday, something was really wrong with me. How did I forget something from my weekly routine? My body usually moved on its own after waking up. However, today I woke with a new type of energy, almost as if I looked forward to something. I saw all the colors again: the reds in my worn out slippers, the blues in the cloudless beautiful morning sky, and the yellows on the walls of my crummy old apartment. Since when did I have yellow walls? Was I out so long I didn’t even notice them? As I dressed to go outside I passed the Blue line where it all happened the night before, or as teenagers called it: “Train Station Checkering.”Until yesterday evening, I’d been living my life in a silent black-and-white film. It was around six at night when I walked from the newspaper building with my mind focused on buying food for my only companion and pet, Waffles. I kept my eyes forward and walked at a steady, rhythmic pace. I coughed as the smoke coming off cigarettes passed me. That’s when I was pushed abruptly to the side and a shower of small pieces of paper fell all over the ground. Some crazy teenagers had run past me, throwing the paper around like confetti all over the place. Almost everyone screamed at them, some even cursed. As I continued to walk, I noticed the confetti wasn’t just a paper; it was copies of a photograph.I did a double-take. It wasn’t a picture that would make the best photographer in the world say, “My goodness, this is GENIUS!” but it took my breath. It was the best picture I’d seen all my life. The colors popped and made me feel self conscious in a way that I felt like I was in this person’s place – maybe I was this person. I stood still while this insane paradigm shift rushed in and out of my head. Maybe that’s how life is – you don’t see what’s in front of you until someone takes pictures of it, makes thousands of copies, and throws them all over the place.
CHECKERING, Photo and Story by Jimena Castorena


Waffles meowed his head off until I opened my eyes.

I know, buddy. Sorry I forgot to buy your food yesterday, something was really wrong with me.

How did I forget something from my weekly routine? My body usually moved on its own after waking up. However, today I woke with a new type of energy, almost as if I looked forward to something.

I saw all the colors again: the reds in my worn out slippers, the blues in the cloudless beautiful morning sky, and the yellows on the walls of my crummy old apartment. Since when did I have yellow walls? Was I out so long I didn’t even notice them? As I dressed to go outside I passed the Blue line where it all happened the night before, or as teenagers called it: “Train Station Checkering.”

Until yesterday evening, I’d been living my life in a silent black-and-white film.

It was around six at night when I walked from the newspaper building with my mind focused on buying food for my only companion and pet, Waffles.

I kept my eyes forward and walked at a steady, rhythmic pace. I coughed as the smoke coming off cigarettes passed me. That’s when I was pushed abruptly to the side and a shower of small pieces of paper fell all over the ground. Some crazy teenagers had run past me, throwing the paper around like confetti all over the place. Almost everyone screamed at them, some even cursed. As I continued to walk, I noticed the confetti wasn’t just a paper; it was copies of a photograph.

I did a double-take. It wasn’t a picture that would make the best photographer in the world say, “My goodness, this is GENIUS!” but it took my breath. It was the best picture I’d seen all my life. The colors popped and made me feel self conscious in a way that I felt like I was in this person’s place – maybe I was this person. I stood still while this insane paradigm shift rushed in and out of my head. Maybe that’s how life is – you don’t see what’s in front of you until someone takes pictures of it, makes thousands of copies, and throws them all over the place.