Sunday, July 19, 2009

Porch Deprivation

While spending a little time in my home town, keeping an eye on one very ornery siamese cat I spotted this video on TV. It's simple and stunning, one of the best visual adaptations of a song that I have come across in quite sometime. I was thrilled to learn it was fan made, and that Death Cab picked it up as the official video for little bribes. This makes me really want to send them the books I made...haha

I've been dwelling on 2054 E.115th a lot these days. Sometimes I wake up in my bed in my new apartment, and before my eyes can snap open I'm convinced I'm back behind the paper thin walls that held me for just under two years. The house itself was fouler than foul, falling apart in more ways than one. I honestly felt like I would never escape, and that I lived in some sort of waking purgatory. I counted down the days until I would be free from its filth forever, and believe me I am grateful to finally be out. What I do admit to longing after is the most fabulous front porch I've ever owned or experienced. I have yet to find one that matches it or even comes close. All I have here is a shared picnic table in a grassy side yard attached to my apartment complex. My heart aches for all the old houses across the way, and for dawn breaking over the hospital just beyond them. A lot of things happened in that house. Good things grew from mostly bad, and no matter how much I am glad to be rid of it I am also just the slightest bit sad to have seen it pass out from under me. I was a very different person when I unpacked my things and moved into that space at the end of August '07 than I was when I filled the bed of a truck with everything I own and took it all elsewhere only a little over a month ago. Part of me will always be on the porch of that house watching the sun set, or the snow fall to a backdrop of trains slowing to a halt and passing through the city where I live.

(an excerpt from my moleskin.
Copic marker, Le pen, and graphite
(c) Sandi Petrie)

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