The moving house. Or, to the use traditional term, househauling. I am completely transfixed by this iconic image of resettlement. Househauling was a common practice in Newfoundland, especially during the Smallwood era after Confederation in 1949. Tiny communities that were determined to have no future were given incentive to move to larger centres where government resources would be closer at hand. In some cases entire houses were moved from their foundation, each pulled by members of the community over frozen harbours. In the summer, they were launched into open water and pulled by a line of dories to new foundations.
There are a few things that I think about when I consider imagery like this. Aside from the absurdity of moving a house, I think about foundation. In some cases, foundations don’t even exist for these kind of houses: they are bolted to the rock with heavy cables, forcibly tied into place. In a weird way saltbox houses are built to be moved, as if the only thing keeping them in place are the people inside of them.
A house does not make a home. In this case a saltbox house, one of those traditional Newfoundland houses that I grew up around (but not in), represents home to me. I romanticize a lot when it comes to thinking about home to the point where I know my preconceived notions about Newfoundland/home are totally embellished versions of reality. I am in a constant battle with my identity as a Newfoundlander because I am not settled. But what does it mean to be “settled”? What will it take for me to feel like I can “settle down”, to dig my heels in, to build roots and a foundation? Sometimes I feel like all I need is some kind of connection to something larger than me, to know that I am a vital part of something bigger. And I don’t even know what that “something bigger” is.
Sometimes I feel like my entire studio practice is some twisty-turny quest for this feeling of connection. The connection isn’t so much with other people but with a culture as a whole. Be it the culture of knitting or with Newfoundland, I want to prove to myself that I am a part of it because I desperately want it to be a part of me (if that makes any sense).
2 Responses to “Househauling and other slightly desperate acts.”
I have nothing constructive to say, but I really love this post.
[...] As for the image content? Well. Maybe I’ll talk about it later, though I did ramble on about it a few posts ago. [...]