Sunday, April 13, 2008

Domicile


9 x 13 journal page
Golden acrylic paints, Montana spray paint, college fodder,
custom stencils (made by moi) and word stencils by Stamper's Anonymous

Let me begin by saying that stencil burning is not as easy as you might think. I've sucked in enough toxic mylar fumes to choke a horse and still haven't produced anything to brag about. My dear friend Julie here at Lost Luggage is an expert though and she's been trying to teach me the tricks of the trade, but to no avail, I have not been a good student. Michelle Ward is responsible for starting all this craziness here at GPP Street Team a.k.a. Green Pepper Press. Thank you both for the push and inspiration.

now on to the matter at hand, "Domicile" pg. 6 in "The Book of Eve"

You've heard the sayings, "Home is where the heart is" or "Where your story begins,"

My story begins in the first house that I can remember, the house where I was born, 2324 E. 73rd St. Brooklyn, New York, Bergen Beach to be exact. The dwelling was split level, we lived in the upstairs. Last time I was in N.Y. the house was still standing, small, very small quaint charming little house in a neighborhood now overrun by ungodly mansions and a complete disregard to any sense of community or architectural informity.

In the 1950's this was the new affordable community to raise your family. The streets were not paved, nor were there sidewalks. I lived in this house until my sister Linda was born and then we moved around the corner upstairs in my aunt Mary and uncle Tommy's house, I believe the address here was 2348 E. 74th street. We liked living here. My uncle Tommy had a pool in the backyard and this is where I learned how to swim. I love swimming, even today. Soon my sister Gina was born and we needed more room so we moved to a larger flat across the street 2357 E. 74th St. This was the last stop. It would be here in this domicile, where my heart would grow, and my wonderful childhood memories would unfold. I lived here 13 years.

We moved from this home in 1974 to Denver, Colorado.

When I think of all the places I have lived in my life, I realize today that I'm still searching for the home where my heart lives. Please don't get me wrong, I have a lovely beautiful home with a wonderful husband, but there is a feeling you have when you and your domicile are one and I have not had this feeling for a long time. Home is definitely where the heart is.

I hope your heart finds you home.

One final thought,
"Once you are outside your door, the hardest part of the journey is behind you."

Thank-you for your visits and kind words.

Have a wonderful week! My other blogspot: "ThE ArTfuL EyE"

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

AAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that stencil!!! Bravo chica!! Qien es mas macho??

Unknown said...

a lovely perfect post. i wonder how many of us are still longing for the perfect house, that home?
~sue okieffe

K Hutchinson said...

Ohhhhhhh.....this is gorgeous! Your stencil is beautifully done! I hope to work on some stencils tomorrow!

I long for my heart to find the perfect house too! I can see it in my mind...some I will be home!

John M. Mora said...

Mature in the best way post.

This journal gives us all insight.

I remember the childhood Christmas stencils when you had white snow fleck spracy paint and created winter on the inside of a northern california window. Bells and snowflakes and maybe a sled.

Thank you for the lovely work and words.

Lucky Dip Lisa said...

Wow two in a row....
I love this blog as much as you other one. I love this post to and your beautiful writing. You are a gifted lady and I am honoured to be able to observe.

Irene said...

What a great art journal this is turning out to be. It will be a treasure when it is full. Sold to the highest bidder? Or invaluable?

My home is where my heart is and it is here with Eduard in this little apartment.

Artists With Artitude said...

I cannot speak for the technique here because my brains are fried with too much meds... but your story has touched my heart... Having left my home (physical) and my homeland (the country I grew up in) and wandered across the globe to establish a domicile (if not a docile and peaceful place for my soul), I have come to the conclusion that I can only "go home" in my dreams and that my real home is now here -- not in a physical sense, although I love living in Austin -- but more with my hubby and son. They are my home...

Now...where did I put these red slippers, Toto?!