Today, I was picking up a specialty paper order at a warehouse on Ashland Avenue, a little ways south of the very large and very ugly Rush University Medical Center. The warehouse was sandwiched between two railroad tracks. As it happened, each was full up with a stopped train. I had to wait awhile while they found and cut the paper, so I stood in the door of the warehouse, out of the rain, and contemplated shipping containers for awhile.
I have long been fascinated with containers, for much the same reason I've long loved road signs -- they are mass-produced and uniform, but separate and unique, bearing the marks of their lives on trucks, trains, and boats. Each has a graphic identity, a bold color scheme, and a patina of grime, grease, and graffiti. They are beautiful, minimalist sculptures on their own, but attain real visual power when massed.
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| Containers stuck on the tracks today. |
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| These containers are extended to 53', from a standard 40'. |
