|
AT 7:30 this morning, January 2, 2007, flames were reported seen coming out of my home.
The Fire Chief told me on the phone that An electrical fire started in the box outside, through the back room, and
spread from there. There is a 6 foot hole in my house. Holes through my ceiling, which appears to have caved in.
There is a two inch mix of black and grey ash, debris, and water covering the span of the entire floor. Furniture
in the front room intact, yet sodden, soiled and covered in a veil of black soot. The bedrooms are spared for the most
part. Only a lingering and penetrating smell that does not leave one's clothes, and continues still to burn my nostrils.
I am reminded of a campfire.
The front door was unlocked, said the Chief, which is a mystery to me. Also, the phone and answering machine still
operate as though perfectly normal. The sinks and basins are black, as if sprayed with matte black spraypaint.
The window blinds are all melted into cringing, twisted branch like forms. Glass is everywhere. Only the large
crucifix and statue of Mary are unscathed, untouched, while further objects are beyond recognition.
My whole life has been reduced to two or three fair sized boxes, and one putrid smelling bag of clothes. I know have
four shirts, three pair of pants, and two pairs of shoes. Thankfully, my art studio was in the shed, five
feet beyond the backroom wall. This is where I kept my paintings, drawings, and photographs. All survived.
My computer, in the backroom, looks like a cubo-futurist sculpture, as it was melted almost completely. I also lost
some books which dated back to the early 18th century church, a loss which cannot be replaced of course.
As I left, taking with me the bits and pieces of my existence, and the clothes I was already wearing, I locked the deadbolt
that is still new, and carefully closed the blackened screen door behind it, as though there was still something valuable
and irreplaceable inside.
As I left, I couldn't help noticing the large white signs with red lettering, saying "Uninhabitable Structure."
|
| An explosion here sent glass and shingles two yards over. |
So now, I must begin again. I am reminded of a poem I once wrote in college, entitled "Soweto":
I ended my grief
knees bended
took my leave of
filling basins and worn cloth
with salt-water
what
little of form
I see through the fog
I disregarded
and
with bayonets
and Bibles
I invented myself again
| My Library |
|
"O Progeny of Heav'n, Empyreal Thrones,
With reason hath deep silence and demur
Seiz'd us, though undismay'd: long is the way
And
hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light;
Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire,
Outrageous to devour, immures
us round
Ninefold and gates of burning Adamant
Barred
over us prohibit all egress."
-Paradise Lost
John Milton
What is left - My New Quarters
There was not alot of salvagable items left. I am told
that the temperature got up to 1000 degrees.
I searched through as much as I could, and found quite a
few small things that I cleaned up, and will be able to keep. Though many pieces of furniture and appliances were destroyed
beyond recognition, many of my favorite items curiously survived, though somewhat blackened by the smoke.
|
| A tryptich I made in college, now blackened. |
|
| The remains of my African Art collection. |
|
