“Loneliness is an unpleasant feeling in which a person feels a strong sense of emptiness and solitude resulting from inadequate social relationships.”
Sisters hardened by an ugly man,
who escaped his wrath
by running into the night.
They left home, scars lacing their bodies.
They left home, with nary a bag.
They left home with nary an idea of who they were.
Life became their man,
their things, their perception of self.
Their men died. They unwound.
They never did know which face was theirs.
They hid amongst their stuff.
Loneliness took hold, they’d had enough.
Such vile evil is a hand raised to a child.
What Treasures Contained……..
A beautiful, ceramic container,
with the ornate roses on the lid.
It has been tucked away
in a far corner, in the dark,
for oh so many, many years.
Confined by the accumulations of hoarding.
At last freed from the confines,
the beautiful little container
receives the first light,
from a window across the room.
What treasures are contained beneath the lid?
So much of what passes through here is about transitions, the journey of life from one stage into another…looking back….looking ahead.
With that in mind, I sold my folks ‘old house’ less than a year ago. It had become a hoarding house, but I must say the front was always maintained with some degree of love and dignity.
To test several old adages, the old house has recently challenged me thusly: ‘you can never go back’ & ‘to each their own’. The photographs speak of transitions and challenge me to move on. I look upon it now as a mix of bittersweetness, agitation, humor and catalyst.
The homes in this neighborhood are neat and relaxed. No one is pretentious, nor pinched in their attitudes. Yet this progression, even for Portlandia, flies in the face of my sense of neighborliness.
Yes, I am challenged on so many levels to turn away, to move on, to do the mental calculations that affirm this is none of my business, ‘to each their own’. Did I say there was humor in my considerations?
In a box, long forgotten, inside my Aunt’s Hoarding Home, I found an old autograph book. Apparently, a few of William/Willie’s admirers left inscriptions inside, along the way, to say hello.
This unique curvature in the brick work of an old building caught my eye. First, I saw the ‘too much stuff’ sign and my mind grabbed at that right away. ‘I need that shot for my Hoarding Woes blog’. I took a shot of just the sign and then saw the unfortunate contrast of that brash sign against the old brick work and the very unique curvature of the front of this corner lot building. I don’t believe I have seen another building like this in the Portland area. It sets abandoned and padlocked in a depressed part of town. Maybe some monied, visionary will push farther East into this area and reclaim this boarded up gem.