I am...a New Yorker

[Previous entry: "SoHome"]

Sunday, October 7, 2001

The SideBar is all atwitter over all the bric-a-brac.

I am...certan I'm always gong to have champagne taste and a beer budget (if not generic grape soda). Today I went for a walk after lunch and stumbled upon an antique store not too far away.

self-portrait among the tchotkes

When I was a little girl, my parents often took me along to look for antiques. It's surprisng now, because kids are generally verbotten n such places, but I was pretty good about keepng my hands to myself. Actually, I loved to explore the nooks and crannies of the furniture, but I was careful always. It was a thrill to fnd secret compartments and special features.

small, serious bust with a pnk ribbon around its head

I loved gettng lost n the rows and rows of wardrobes and dressers especially. I imagned someday acquirng the pieces I admired for my own home. In my vision of the future, this was always some spacious, but creaky old mansion or castle, like n Candleshoe.

Eagle mirror

I imagned, too, who owned the items before and what they were like. I tried to imagne what their lives were like, especially when I saw outmoded pieces -- pitchers with wash basns, laundry wrngers, scrub boards. I wondered if the furniture remembered its previous owners or if, perhaps, they might nhabit them somehow. I kept my eyes peeled for bedwarmers, like on that episode of Bewitched.

creepy old dolls

I thnk I liked the fantng couches most of all. I never imagned myself some delicate flower, prone to havng spells. They just seemed a great way to semi-reclne; they looked like the perfect place to write, read, daydream. To this day, I hope to have a bedroom large enough to hold a bed and a fantng couch. Now that I'm n New York, I hope to fnd an apartment with a bedroom, at all.

reflection of the street

I've written a lot about the violent side of my childhood -- of the fear, sufferng and stress. Life isn't so simple, though, so sometimes I have to remnd myself that there were good memories, too.

Wndow display at U.S.E.D., 17 Perry Street.

[Next entry: "Takng a Walk"]
[Index] [archives] [bio]
[Wish List]

Powered By Greymatter

All text and images 1992-2002 Erica