Building Blocks
Constructing a Life's History
Domicile Life
We depend on them to protect our fragile human bodies from the elements as we go about our daily lives. Ancestors all over the world worked and lived with far less comfortable abodes. We spend most of our recreational time in one. These structures are so much a part of our day to day existence that we don’t pay that much attention after some time. Was there ever a time when you didn’t remember unlocking the door to enter your home?
↑ Cliff dwellings of the Sinagua people at Montezuma Castle, Arizona USA (ca.1050 CE). The then equivalent of today’s modern apartment buildings. As a people, they were known to be farmers. Given the scale and complexity of the dwelling, they’d have to be artisans and architects too. If human life expectancy were one thousand years, it’s possible to live one’s entire life, then die in the exact same home one was born in. Not to mention the amount of memories from those years. 900+ years of a history to learn from. We’ll have to wait and see if any of today’s modern buildings will last as long.
Memories of Place & Time
↑ This is where my photographic life began. Looking back with this photograph, I marvel at what transpired behind those doors. This utilitarian structure, a place where I and tens of thousands consumed our days through the years. Back then, not taking note of what would become an emotional tie. Only years later did I make the connection. Realizing where experiences, ideas and opportunities of life had germinated. How they ultimately impacted the soul through life. Traveling back, see the time and place where important memories were born. Somewhere along the timeline my younger self understood the importance of this place—and prompted the photograph.
I learned about community
I learned about volunteerism
I learned about dedication
I learned about infatuation
I learned about friendship
I learned about photography
and countless other lessons
Important life lessons that sustained me throughout were instilled in this two-story nondescript utilitarian building. The monumental underpinning of such an impact is incalculable. This being my takeaway, I can only imagine the countless other lives that were also nourished and transformed.
↑ Though it’s the neighborhood of my birth, this was not my first home. It’s where I sustained that photographic life-story mentioned above. It’s a place of refuge after being bullied. Where I fought with my siblings on first-use of the bathroom. Where we played stoop ball, stick ball, and all the other kid games.
The neighborhood where every courtyard had its own colloquial name. The building is connected to another on the right. Together with this courtyard in the foreground were locally known as “Welfare Island.” Another courtyard adjacent on the left was known as “The Poor Block.” Strange, given the knowledge most everyone living in these apartment buildings were living near or below the poverty level.
The place where my eldest brother lived before passing away. The building where my mom passed away.
↑ A, B, Cs. 1, 2, 3s. Before it was abandoned, it’s where some of my kindergarten days were spent. About halfway through that year, we transferred to a brand new smaller building nearby.
↑ In 2012, I had a sad realization of not documenting my junior high school years. The only thing I thought to do in dedication was document the act of walking there. Though it’s in walking distance from the home above, it’s not a short walk. Fifteen to twenty minutes or so. This overpass is the pathway to igniting memories of the building in the distance on the left. School.
Saving Mementos
↑ For about a decade or so when younger, I had been an avid bicyclist. Thirty to forty-plus mile (48-64km) bike rides were not unusual. One particular day deciding to travel to what had been my grandparent’s place. Feeling a need to document not only the building, but the neighborhood I’d spent younger days often visiting.
I’m going to stop here for now. This wasn’t supposed to be this personal, but what the hell! I hope the underlying theme I’m speaking about, buildings are most often our places of memories. Most of the time, an afterthought—rather than in the moment when you can do something about it. Effecting a change right then and there. Pull up a memory right now!
With the seemingly endless amount of time we each have to be grateful about what we’ve achieved in our lives, those little moments may disappear. There are just too many to count. When a memory is sparked by a glimpse of something, it can be easy to unconsciously push it aside until later. My suggestion, live the memory when it happens, unless it can be triggered by a memento later. You have to remember to use the memento as the trigger at that time. Otherwise…
Wishing you well until next time…
Funny, how you start off writing in one direction, and you end up getting into the personal. I dig that shot of P.S. 30. I like old, derelict buildings, especially those with stone lintels over the windows. The building might not make to 1,000 years, but those lintels will. Cool story, Kenneth.
Good stories, good shots