Somedays it seems like my anthropomorphism* towards places is overwhelming.
For instance, six years later, I still think about the house I grew up in… hoping it’s being treated well and that it’s happy.
I know that homes are inanimate, but my belief system leads me to understand that everything has a purpose/feelings.
Yeah, yeah, I know.
ANYWAY, Buffalo (proper) is pretty much a dying city. Empty homes, desolate lawns, substandard living conditions; you heard about Extreme Home Make Over, right?
I subscribe to a number of why-does-this-happen?!?! newsletters/websites where various people highlight the blight and ask why.
And in making myself all boo-hoo and sad, I read these posts and look at the homes/business that once were and also wonder why.
So, over at Broadway-Fillmore Alive! this video was posted:
It just breaks my heart.
I see these homes and I think about the history involved… kids learning how to walk on their wood floors, board games played in living rooms, angry teenagers stomping up stairs, the excitement of a first home, birthday parties, baths in clawfoot tubs, pianos in the den with singalongs, love letters written in bedrooms… if the walls could talk!
Now, I know houses don’t feel, but I still can’t help but think of an older home smiling, wanting to help, feeling proud that it’s doing it’s job: keeping the family safe, dry, warm… akin to “The Giving Tree”.
And I just imagine them feeling sad, left behind, lonely, hurt when the family moves or is evicted. Or when his window eyes are broken. And his door boarded up. And getting The Red Mark of Death**
Yes, I understand we can’t save all the abandoned homes/buildings… it doesn’t help me to feel any less sad for the houses… who can’t feel….
* I’ll save you the trouble: the act of giving human qualities to objects/places/things that aren’t human. e.g. Houses don’t “feel”; polar bears don’t “talk”
** Housing speak for condemned