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I am 15 hours and 30 minutes away from one of the places I'd love to call home.
Living here, within the bitter, sharp air, rain or snow or the occasional beams of sunlight, grass yellow and temperatures jumping, I know I was not born to live in Troy, Michigan. My mother knew it before me, even, telling me at a young age that she saw me moving away as soon as I was done with my education. Of course, me being only seven, I denied it. I never saw myself claiming any other area as home, living apart from everyone I had ever met. As I grew up, however, I slowly began to realize how right she was.
Like Nick in The Great Gatsby, location has the potential to both derive me of life, and also deliver the utmost amount of happiness to me--simply due to its environment. Nick describes eating in the Yale Club as "the gloomiest event of [his] day," while loving New York for its "racy, adventurous feel." At every turn of his life, Nick is constantly naming locations, allowing the audience to grasp how such a place symbolizes and influences its inhabitants. And I agree. Some places truly possess the ability to determine a person's happiness.
For me, Troy is my valley of ashes. The cold sucks the color from my skin, giving me a yellowy tint. I walk out the door every morning, shivering, forced to slowly scrape away at the hard frost covering my windshield with the bottom of my sweatshirt sleeve. The constant fluctuations in weather create an unpredictability about our city that I despise, as my body has trouble adjusting to each change. We are not cramped enough as a city to know and label every citizen, but not large enough to marvel at the beauty of life, knowing that every small light and shout and honk belongs to the life of a stranger. Here, we remain "safe," safe from crime and criminals but also shrouded and hidden from an adventure.
Far out there, in the southern side of Jacksonville, Florida, lives family. Last spring, I flew down there alone, as nobody else in my family of five experiences their town like I do. The air smells sweet and sticky, the humidity wraps me in a warm hug, and the people there are interesting to watch. Their roads lack potholes, and are instead lined with soft glowing lights. Traffic ceases to exist down there. To get to their neighborhood of small, colored houses, abundant with coniferous trees as well as palm, you cross a long bridge, hanging over a lake whose size mirrors an ocean. During the night, the lullaby of trains and sweet soft breeze lulls me to sleep, and I wake up to bird songs and soft swaying of the palms. It's a small town, where everyone recognizes everyone, and small businesses outnumber chains. One of the happiest weeks I've ever had has been living in their small town.
But for now, I'll remain stuck at "home," forced to take Vitamin D pills to make up for the sun rays I wish I could be receiving.
Living here, within the bitter, sharp air, rain or snow or the occasional beams of sunlight, grass yellow and temperatures jumping, I know I was not born to live in Troy, Michigan. My mother knew it before me, even, telling me at a young age that she saw me moving away as soon as I was done with my education. Of course, me being only seven, I denied it. I never saw myself claiming any other area as home, living apart from everyone I had ever met. As I grew up, however, I slowly began to realize how right she was.
Like Nick in The Great Gatsby, location has the potential to both derive me of life, and also deliver the utmost amount of happiness to me--simply due to its environment. Nick describes eating in the Yale Club as "the gloomiest event of [his] day," while loving New York for its "racy, adventurous feel." At every turn of his life, Nick is constantly naming locations, allowing the audience to grasp how such a place symbolizes and influences its inhabitants. And I agree. Some places truly possess the ability to determine a person's happiness.
For me, Troy is my valley of ashes. The cold sucks the color from my skin, giving me a yellowy tint. I walk out the door every morning, shivering, forced to slowly scrape away at the hard frost covering my windshield with the bottom of my sweatshirt sleeve. The constant fluctuations in weather create an unpredictability about our city that I despise, as my body has trouble adjusting to each change. We are not cramped enough as a city to know and label every citizen, but not large enough to marvel at the beauty of life, knowing that every small light and shout and honk belongs to the life of a stranger. Here, we remain "safe," safe from crime and criminals but also shrouded and hidden from an adventure.
Far out there, in the southern side of Jacksonville, Florida, lives family. Last spring, I flew down there alone, as nobody else in my family of five experiences their town like I do. The air smells sweet and sticky, the humidity wraps me in a warm hug, and the people there are interesting to watch. Their roads lack potholes, and are instead lined with soft glowing lights. Traffic ceases to exist down there. To get to their neighborhood of small, colored houses, abundant with coniferous trees as well as palm, you cross a long bridge, hanging over a lake whose size mirrors an ocean. During the night, the lullaby of trains and sweet soft breeze lulls me to sleep, and I wake up to bird songs and soft swaying of the palms. It's a small town, where everyone recognizes everyone, and small businesses outnumber chains. One of the happiest weeks I've ever had has been living in their small town.
But for now, I'll remain stuck at "home," forced to take Vitamin D pills to make up for the sun rays I wish I could be receiving.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery that you use to describe Troy and Jacksonville is extremely detailed and depicts both locations very well. The way you tied The Great Gatsby into this fit well and I like how analyzed Nick's situation in a similar way as you did your own. Also, I love how you said "Troy is my valley of ashes" because it tied with the book very well.
Abby, this is yet another amazing blog! I love all of the descriptive details you used to back up your claim. I also enjoyed how you brought up The Great Gatsby to your topic, because I would have never thought of that! I hope one day you live in a place that truly feels like home for you!
ReplyDeleteGAH! Yet another amazing post Abby, your imagery in this was phenomenal
ReplyDeleteOH MY GOD THIS IS ACTUALLY THE BEST BLOG POST I THINK YOU HAVE EVER WRITTEN!! I love this sooo much and I think its amazing that were able to connect it so well to something that we are reading. The way you talk about home is amazing and I honestly really relate to it, amazing job!!
ReplyDeleteI love this blog post. I completely agree that location can have such an enormous effect on mood. Your imagery and descriptions help me as a reader see exactly what you were seeing down in Jacksonville, good job!
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