Unrequited

My life has been populated by many incidents of the unrequited. I had a habit of falling for the wrong guys, sometimes they already had girlfriends (or boyfriends), were emotionally unavailable, or maybe they didn't even know I existed! I was a real gluten for punishment and was completely indulgent in my misery. I was single for most of my twenties, so at a time when most of my friends were partnering off, I was the honorary third wheel. I was in a state perpetual pining and  self-induced emotional torture.

The only things which could distract me from my woe, were beer and dancing (and often the beer worked against me.) One night in Lancaster, as my friends and I walked home from a club, I was overcome with the urge to lay down in the middle of the street, and I did. My pals found it totally hilarious, but I was dead serious. I was overcome by the dire condition of my romantic life and it seemed like the only thing to do. It was late and there wasn't any traffic, so the gesture was mostly symbolic.

As I performed this instruction I was absolutely unnerved! I realized I no longer have the bravado of a twenty year old. I've also found love, so the sting of the unrequited is only a distant memory. 

images from Urequited

Home

For the past two years I've been living between Baltimore and Murfreesboro, TN. Not having a stable home has left me longing for more security and a place to put down roots. It's also had me thinking about all the places I've lived over the years...

I was born in PA and lived in a trailer off Shauffnertown Road until I was two. In 1968, we moved down the street into a house that my father built (my parents still live there.) I lived with my family until I went to Millersville University in Lancaster. I spent a year in the dorms and then rented a house with my boyfriend on Queen Street. It was the first place that felt like my own. It was big, and empty, since were all too poor to afford furniture. With all the open space we decided to start doing monthly exhibits and music nights, it was my first taste of the joys of a creative community. My little utopia was shattered when we were burgled. I didn't have much, but they took all my worldly possessions, including my priceless collection of

costume jewelry. Ron and I moved to a second floor apartment on Franklin Street and I stayed there until we broke up a year later. Next I lived with Peri and Andrea on Pine Street. I had a really big open bedroom with window seats. I lived there for two years until I made the big move to Baltimore.

I had planned to move to Baltimore with my pal Adam, but that never materialized. So I ended up solo on St. Paul Street. I didn't know a soul and was working as a receptionist, it was the hardest year of my life! Things improved the following year as I started graduate school at Towson University and moved into an efficiency on 41st street. I had a hard time making the rent on my own, so I found a roommate and a cheap apartment on Hanover Street. It was in terrible shape and didn't have heat until late November, but the rent was $360 and I could paint the place however I wanted. After slumming it for year I moved into a real house with Chris and Stacey on Arabia Avenue. I stayed there for two years and then moved with Chris to an apartment in a nice house on Woodlawn Avenue. I had lived with roommates for years and decided I needed my own space, so I rented a shotgun apartment on St. Paul Street. It had a balcony that over looked a catholic church and I often fantasized that I was in Italy. After that, I rented a house on Guilford Avenue with my boyfriend Jason. It was a cool old house, but unfortunately had a constant flooded basement. 

After Jason and I spilt, I set out looking for a place on my own. I was looking at apartments, before I realized I might be able to afford a house. I only looked at three places. When I walked into the house on Greenmount Avenue, I was instantly smitten! I remember sitting on the back porch feeling that I was finally home. I painted the living room red and the kitchen Pixy (a perfect shade of 1950's green.) Having a house made me feel like an adult and gave me room to grow. Bill and I had our wedding party there and it was the site of my beloved spare room.

In 2005, I accepted a teaching position in Murfreesboro, TN, and found  a duplex on Maney Avenue, a street lined with beautiful Victorian houses. So, now I split my time between Baltimore and Murfreesboro. I still love the house in Baltimore, but it feels less like home these days. It's a strange feeling to be between places. Home has become a more fleeting concept and less about physical place and more about the people I love. I don't know where I will end up next, and I wonder how my map may change in the coming years.

images from Home

Home by Andrea Biller

Home by Pam Rehm

Homemade

My first introduction to the creative impulse was through my Mother and Mama. We never went to art museums and we didn't have a single art book in the house. My education came through watching them sew, and knit, and crochet, and embroider, nearly ceaselessly. They engaged in the magic of making something from nothing.

My Mama only went to the 5th grade and she was self-conscious about her talents. I saw her as smart, spunky, and amazing. She was always wearing a stylish outfit she had crafted from scraps of found fabric, and she held fast to her doctrine to not buy something she could make herself, including her underpants! Her sewing room was populated by a menagerie of stuffed animals, toilet paper cozies, and elaborate quilts.

My Mother continued the legacy of making and she and Mama clothed my sisters and I for most of our childhood. As a kid, I was embarrassed by our homemade clothes, I wanted store bought outfits and real jeans! It wasn't until high school that I began to see that our homemade clothes were unique. My Mother could make anything I wanted, we could design it together and she could stitch it up with expert precision (it was her dream to be a fashion designer.)

When I was around fourteen, I made a dress for a girl scout competition. It was a clumsy attempt in calico and ribbon trim. I don't really have the patience to sew things properly, but decided to try my hand at sewing for this instruction. While I didn't inherit my Mother's knack for sewing, I did get her DIY spirit and solid work ethic.

I dedicate this instruction to my dearly departed Mama and to my Mother who is most likely sewing right this moment.

images from Homemade

Homemade by Frank Baugh

Homemade by Pam Rehm

In the Basement

 

The basement in my parent's house was my haven for much of my adolescent life, it was my slice of privacy from my three younger sisters. I spent most of my time there making drawings and lip synched dance routines to Pat Benatar and Olivia Newton John songs. After I discovered the Go-Gos, I became obsessed with the idea of starting a girl group with my sisters and cousins. I came up with a great 80s concept; we would be called Roy G Biv and each girl would be named after a color. Of course, I wanted to be Indigo, I made a record cover, but  that was as far as the idea went.