safekeeping my sanctuary

I used to play capoeira with a gentle giant who embodied a quiet ferocity and I was fortunate enough to reunite with him on a mission to protect the body of this house. We spent the better part of Sunday designing and installing the fundamental wiring of a security system for the house.

He has tactile knowledge of the digital security ins and outs/ do's and don'ts in the 21st century. It was an important move for me, One, because I needed the help, and Two, because I had to really start to question how I was going to implant myself and this house in this community in a secure way that acknowledges the dingbats down the road that tried to break into my car a few months back, BUT does not set out to be a self-segregated fortress that visibly pushes away the same community that it is growing to love.

Meanwhile, across town in a brick and stone hamlet adorned by a black wrought iron fence with white spear tips facing towards the morning sky... a gentle, but not so giant man, slips out of his back door, past one then two silver dishes filled with water... water that would soon be laid to waste by two bushy brown overly eager and feverishly excitable dogs... into a makeshift, yet impenetrable, steel laden workshop. In this workshop... this place where man and steel melt and spark with the heat of industry and intent... Mr. Brown, an older Jamaican man with a plaid shirt and gloves I imagine to be similar those a hawk trainer would wear... starts to guild the serpentine pieces of metal that will soon become my courtyard gates and first floor window grills.

two systems of safety... two reassurances for peace... two methods of protection... two eras of securing that which I value.

...two friends taking their Sunday afternoons to help me grow.