Wednesday, 14 April 2010


I had to rethink my city visit as Lincoln was quite the fail! So i decided to go to Durham. As a city it is quite like Lincoln, just easier for me to get to whilst at uni. My idea about the houses went down well so I think I'll follow that route.

These are photos of some cute houses I found. I've created descriptions of the people I imagine live there. Done in first person as a personal approach but also third to represent someone looking on. Couldn't quite decide which prefer, thinking of doing typographical piece, but perhaps hand drawn type like this:

(obviously not using such words and appropriate to the houses/ house occupants!)

Woman, late 30s. Slim. Blonde. Small dog. Likes to shop
Man, Early 60s. Chubby. Balding. Works a lot, suited and booted type.

"This wasn't quite what I had expected if I'm being honest. I met my husband a few years ago. I was working at a bar and he was visiting for a few weeks. He swept me away, a life style I had never dreamed of let alone experienced. He is older than me, but it doesn't bother me. He promised me the world and I fell head over heels. You could say I have everything I wanted, pink house, infinite shopping money, stress free, job free life. Sometimes, I miss my old life. Sometimes, I wish I'd asked for more."

This wasn't what she had envisioned when he promised her the world, her deepest wishes and desires. "A pink house?" she said, thinking a Paris Hilton inspired Barbie Dream house. "A walk in closet?" She asked, picturing a room filled with shoes, neatly lined up in designer order. She stands at the window in her 6 bedroom house looking out at his old bike, one of his brief attempts at "keeping fit for his younger model". Just another false promise...

Young family.
New to the house
2 young children, baby and toddler
husband commutes

"The house was this colour when we moved in, the same curtains were hanging. I hate them, but we have barely had time to sleep, let alone decorate. We moved in a few months ago, just after we had our daughter. Bringing up two children under the age of five is a lot harder than we had anticipated. My husband works in Leeds and commutes everyday. He's tired. We're both tired. But we love each other, and we love our family. Thats all I ever wanted, so the colour, the curtains, they don't really matter."

They run round the house, to every crook, to every cranny. They have only lived here a few months but they have seen every centimeter of it, playing games, making memories. He returns home ready to tuck them into bed, she watches complacently at the door. How did she get so lucky?

Family with older children who have perhaps gone off to uni or to work and live away.

Man; Tall, dark haired, slim. Beard, looks older than he should but still quite attractive. Wife considerably shorter, slim for her age. brown hair, apron, house wife style.

"We've lived here all our lives really. Well, all our married life. This was our first house. My husband carried me over that very door as two fresh faced newly weds. We should have probably got a bigger house when we had the kids, but money has always been quite tight. Edward works long hours and I'm alone a lot now the Annabelle and Simon have grown up and got their own lives. We've made this place our home, it's small, but its home..."

She stands idly ironing another one of his shirts. She loves him, but every shirt she irons, the more she resents him. The house is quiet now the kids have grown. The only sound that fills her day is the quiet lulls of "This Morning" and "Loose Women". The sun beams through the window and she stares out, longing for the days when she could walk hand in hand with him down summer lanes, happy in each others embrace. That was enough.

Man alone.
Old, rich. Dicky bow type. chubby. Short. Westy dog.
Old man, used to be quite the casanova, lives alone, never settled.

"I don't spend a great deal of time at home. I sleep here and thats about it. I work a lot then enjoy nothing more than a beverage down the local. The land lady is a delight and often gives me a free whisky, I think she likes me. They always like me... I did think I would settle down one day, but when you get a reputation, sometimes its hard to shake it. So here I am, me, my dog and my money; all I need."

He rests at the edge of his bed. Another hard day. His dog licks his face eagerly but he can hardly lift his hand to return this affection. Maybe thats why he never married; Too selfish. He convinces himself he's happy alone, he's always being "his own man". He's married to his work and he's grateful for that when he feels the leather of his mercedes seats, or he slips into his gucci suit. "Why limit yourself to vanilla when there are so many flavours out there" he smiles as he drifts into slumber, remembering the "golden years", chocolate one night, strawberry the next.

Little old man. Hunched. White hair. Widowed. Likes trains. Grandkids.
Well dressed, smart, clean.

"The kids got us this house a few year ago, just before my wife passed. It's a lovely little place, not like our old one though. Easier for me to keep it clean and tidy, she liked it that way. I'm retired and like nothing more than to sit with me trains or see the wee bairns. Sundays are the best, thats when the kids and the wee'uns come round, and I cook em all dinner, keep them fed up, thats what she always told me."

He potters round the little green house lining up the knives and forks and dusting the his model trains. His wife liked everything to be neat and tidy and almost keeping it this way makes it feel like she's still around. It's mid afternoon on a Sunday when two young children launch into his arm as he answers the door. The smile that spreads across his face illustrates just how much he enjoys these moments, moments spent with the ones he loves. Thats what really matters now.

Young family, 5 kids all under the age of 12
cute, very good looking family. wholesome.

"My house is the tallest on our street. There are lots of colourful houses but ours is white. My mum thinks it looks better but I want to live in the pink one. Pink is my favourite colour. We are eating tea and Daddy comes running in because he's late. He doesn't like being late so he brought us all sweets and my Mummy flowers. They kiss. Me, my two sisters and two brothers all say "errr" but secretly I like it, like cinderella, I want a prince like Daddy and to be as beautiful as Mummy one day."

"To an outsider the scene looks like chaos. The mother distributes each of the meals to each of the children, 5 to be precise; 3 girls, and twin boys. She looks frazzled and tired but beautiful none the less. She's still young herself and her skin has that healthy glow. Her cheeks gleam as her husband walks in brandishing flowers and sweets. He apologizes for being late, but 8 minutes is hardly late at all. She greets him with a chaste kiss to which the children giggle. The eldest sits on admiringly as the rest eat their food in some what, ordered chaos."

Old couple, George and Freda. Both short and looks like each other
Both chubby/dumby, the woman the chubbier of the two.
Argue constantly, no-one understands why they are together

"That bloody woman from next door came round again, borrowing sugar. Young and pristine even though she's more children than a bloody football team. I saw him gawping at her, so I told him off. He used to gawp at me like that, now all he does is shout at the Tv or tell me to put the tea on. Lazy old git. In hindsight, I should have left him years ago, now it just feels too late. I do love him, I'm just not IN love with him anymore. But at least I'm not alone..."

She slams the door shut having politely handed over the sugar to the young woman who lives next door. Struts back into the living room she notices him, still sat there, in 'his' chair, watching the Tv. "Put the tea on love" he says, not looking up from the screen. It happens again. He remains glued to his chair as she wobbles around flailing her arms. He nods, not really listening to what she's screaming about until finally she stomps into the kitchen and slams the kettle on. Contentment, leads to boredom, leads to frustration, to anger, to arguments. Constantly.

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