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This particular stretch of fence is compelling to me mostly because of its sheer existence. That it’s still standing while so much in the surrounding area is gone seems like a miracle to me, one I wanted to acknowledge with an equivalent gesture of surprise.
There’s a real sweetness to the house, too, poignant and endearing. It used to be canary yellow, you can see that much. And I can imagine some wonderful stuff happening on that front porch. Newspapers, gossip, sweet tea.
I wanted to create something here that reflected the simple charm and magic that I can still feel emanating from this property. The mini-water bottles, brightly dyed water, and the messages that are in some of the bottles are my unaffected choices in keeping with the easy feeling I get from the energy of this house.
Every time I visit this location to add to the piece or just check in on it the wind is howling around and I am surrounded by ghosts. The spirit of this lost community, the lost lives, and lost dreams whistle and whip through the yellow caution tape, the high dry weeds. And the colorful bottles in this small gate wink and sparkle like small stars I wish all the people who used to live here could see.
