i am blessed to come from a place of sandy shores, cool bay air and tulips in the springtime. i was born and raised in a small town at the very bottom of the state of alabama, fairhope. i went to school with the same people from preschool to senior year, watching others come and go. the town flourished around me as the year waxed and waned; spring erupted like a great volcano and sent fairhope into a kaleidoscope of light, color, passion and pollen. summer was like a match fizzling out under fingertips, energy draining but with heat left to smolder. each year, flowers bloomed in an almost ridiculous abundance on every street corner, in every front yard and every stretch of road. people visited for the arts & crafts festival, sipped lemonade and bought expensive pieces to frame for their living rooms. the bay was a quiet lull in the background for most of my teenage escapades, seagulls swooping like desperate children and mullets leaping like olympic divers. the days were bright and the air was humid. winters came in december and were gone by march. people would fall in love with the city after one visit, then decide to move their whole family from ohio into a house on the bay. the crime rate was nonexistent, the schools were the top in the county, and children roamed without worry. i thank my parents for raising me in such a beautiful, safe place.
but why is it than when i think of fairhope, or when i see peers mentioning how utterly excited they are to go home for the weekend on facebook, or i hear someone muse about how they miss "home", i get sick to my stomach? why is it that fairhope is not "home" for me? it never was.
i do not enjoy the feeling of not wanting to go back. my family is there, and so are many dear friends. i love them, but i do not love fairhope. in my head, fairhope represents years of oppression and confusion for me. though i hate to sound pretentious, i truly feel as if i were "too quirky" for fairhope and it's strict, uniform types of ideas (i.e. bmws, northface jackets, expensive shopping trips, lavish houses in rock creek and the strict codes of conduct/personality upheld by the majority of typical fairhope townies). when one attends school with the same people for over thirteen years, stereotypes are formed and ideas manifest that one cannot ever shake off. i was not one of the people who fit in, nor did i ever truly want to. in a place like fairhope, this had consequences. while i went back and forth between groups of friends, made life-long relationships and lost just as many, i never felt that i found my niche, and my only conclusion was that it did not exist there. by the end of my senior year of highschool, i felt more alone and confused than i had in my entire life. i longed to leave that place and it's boredom, it's people and it's narrow-minded ideals. in the weeks before i left for college, i found myself crying just from sheer excitement - i could not wait to leave that beautiful, utopian village on the bay.
i am unsure if my "niche" is here, but i do know where it is not. as of now, i am trying very hard to find my place in the world and make it my own. though fairhope will always be a place to visit, enjoy and marvel at, i never plan to live there again. i am an outsider now. my home may not be here in tuscaloosa, but it is out there, and i will find it.
here are a few photos from our trip! we ended up coming home a day early because our tent leaked. little did we know, it simply was not made to endure cool mountain showers. regardless, i had a wonderful time and enjoyed the beauty of the canyon during a four mile hike.
my poor little blog has been so abused. i have been thrifting quite a bit lately and i've picked up some great items - sweaters, shirts, a polaroid sun 660, cute little navy messenger sack and some edgar allan poe collective works from 1904 (pictured). i've been pretty busy - and not to mention, thoughtful - for the past week, and i haven't had time to post.
i am blessed to come from a place of sandy shores, cool bay air and tulips in the springtime. i was born and raised in a small town at the very bottom of the state of alabama, fairhope. i went to school with the same people from preschool to senior year, watching others come and go. the town flourished around me as the year waxed and waned; spring erupted like a great volcano and sent fairhope into a kaleidoscope of light, color, passion and pollen. summer was like a match fizzling out under fingertips, energy draining but with heat left to smolder. each year, flowers bloomed in an almost ridiculous abundance on every street corner, in every front yard and every stretch of road. people visited for the arts & crafts festival, sipped lemonade and bought expensive pieces to frame for their living rooms. the bay was a quiet lull in the background for most of my teenage escapades, seagulls swooping like desperate children and mullets leaping like olympic divers. the days were bright and the air was humid. winters came in december and were gone by march. people would fall in love with the city after one visit, then decide to move their whole family from ohio into a house on the bay. the crime rate was nonexistent, the schools were the top in the county, and children roamed without worry. i thank my parents for raising me in such a beautiful, safe place.
i am in love with this little suitcase. i found it at the very, very back of the thrift store i have obsessively frequented since i moved to college. it is the only thrift store in town, besides the goodwill (which i haven't visited yet). the store is quite large with a huge selection. i've had a lot of luck there - i've picked up lots of tshirts to wear to class and a little brown, leather pack that i carry when i don't feel like lugging my huge purse around. anyway, today i picked up this suitcase for $2. it is in perfect working condition but it has a few dents and scratches on the outer body. i also picked up this beautiful floral scarf for around 50 cents! i can't wait for an excuse to use this suitcase.
