On Another Note: I'm in a Secret Society

I never noticed hierarchy on houses before Saturday, but now feel in on this interesting little "secret." Still being a Baltimore virgin, just completing my third month, I never noticed that pretty much all the brownstones (or most) have silver or gold numbers. I also didn't realize how much stained glass punctuates the city.

When Alison talked (passionately??) about house numbers during class, I immediately thought about my Bolton Hill brownstone and tiny painted numbers that mark my building. At first, in my head, I was like: ummmmmm, not everywhere can we find good hierarchy on houses in Baltimore. Then, at second thought, I realized: stained windows. I remembered that the numbers on my house are surrounding by color, light, and texture, thus separating from and amplifying against the muddied brown bricks. Then I thought: wow, how lucky am I to have stained glass!!

And on my way to New York that evening after class, driving along Eastern Avenue toward 95, I noticed some glass. Then more. Then more. More, and more. I also saw silver and gold everything, everywhere. "She was right," I said, turning to my friend in the driver's seat, who was, in turn, trying to catch glimpses of shimmering numbers with me, going 40 mph. Surprisingly, the ride from Bolton Hill through Fells Point, Highlandtown, and wherever else we drove through, to the 95 North entrance passed quicker than normal, as numbers, colors, and glass entertained and enthralled me, these items leaping through my eyes and dancing in my head.

In a city that looks thrown together or otherwise uncared for, abandoned, run down, neglected, and chock full of tax shelters, that hierarchy and distinction still mattered on these dready Baltimore brownstones tickles me.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!