by Lily Goodman
Having been raised Jewish, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are no different than any other evening or day to me, other than most businesses are closed and there is an unmistakable stillness in the air, one I feel, is more apparent to those not partaking in the festivities than those that do.
Barely anyone is out; most are with their families celebrating the culmination of the “most wonderful time of the year”. It’s the perfect time to observe the spaces in which you inhabit, the infrastructure of our lives, sans people. It’s arresting in a curious way, one I have a hard time articulating through words, therefore I took these photos.
This past Christmas, there was no snow, and it was actually quite warm out, at least in Northwest Chicago. The grass was brittle; the sidewalks cold and stiff; the sky washed out and cloudy. And this Christmas, I walked amongst the stillness that I have a hard time articulating, camera in hand, no hat or gloves needed, and observed the day that most Americans seem to look forward to and hope will be accompanied by a picturesque snowfall, see no snow. This Christmas, I walked around photographing the day in which family and friends are invited and expected to partake in love and be merry and found the setting for such a bit uninviting and gloomy.
At least there’s always next (most wonderful time of the) year.
All photos taken on December 25, 2018 in 35mm. Norwood Park, Chicago, IL.