I don't know exactly where I developed my appreciation of old homes and buildings, but I do recall fond memories of going to the vintage home of a relative in Concord NC around Christmas. This particular home was very large, white clapboard with columns and a great door. We kids ran all over the house while the adults prepared food. I remember the largeness of the rooms, the wood floor and formal layout, so very different from the mid-60's ranchs that I had lived in.
Another time we visited some friends at their historic farmhouse in the country. The double wide central hall and very prominent staircase stands out, as well as the screened in back porch. The attic had ghosts so we only peeked in there. The boys that lived there encouraged my brother and I to climb down the downspout from their bedroom, but I wasn't so sure about that.
At the age of 16 I went to Europe with ALSG, a student study group. Italy was our first stop, and that was signifigant because I was really wanting to connect with my Italian heritage.
What occurred was a sort of an awakening in regards to Architecture. From the open-air, but secluded, sun-drenched courtyard where we took our coffee and breakfast roll at the first hotel, to the magnificence of the Pantheon, Rome blew my mind. The texture of age, the solidity of stone and masonry, the play of light and dark on arches and cobblestones, I was entranced. We went on to several different countries during our 14 day trip, but Rome, Milan and Florence stand out to this day.
It was that experience that led me to study Architecture a few years later at NC State at the School of Design (Now the College of Design). After 4 years of studios and an over-saturation of that peculiar affliction that seems to infect the feild of Architecture (which for lack of a better term I will call ' Design Snobbery') and the professional isolation and limited community experience, I was ready for something different. I went to Chicago and joined an inner-city, intentional Christian community and it was there I began to learn the plaster restoration trade.
Most of the buildings we worked on were turn-of-the-century, post-fire and I enjoyed each project as we restored the walls and ceilings back to their former glory.
After I moved back to Greensboro, I bit the bullet and bought a 1910 fixer-upper and was fully indoctrinated into the cult of 'This Old House' which at times was more aptly referred to as 'This Da** House'. Among the many things I learned through that experience was to never again try to live in a house while working on it. I will leave that business to heartier souls than I. (Watching winter wind blow under the baseboard while sleeping on a mattress on the floor is not an experience I really want to go through again, among others).
After a few years in buisness as PlasterWorks in Greensboro, I got the travel itch again and went to the Provence region of France for 6 weeks. It was a much needed time of refreshment and renewal and still provides me with sustenance for my soul as I close my eyes and see the feilds of sunflowers with a backdrop of mountains, or the Pont Du Gard, or perhaps the Coliseum in Arle, or the vineyards of Chateauneuf Du Pape.....I could go on.
After coming back to Greensboro, I married the girl next door and we started a family. Plaster restoration and painting was beginning to get a little stale, so I did some research and decided to get professional training in Venetian Plaster. These projects have given me a much needed outlet for my creative side, and re-connect me with my love of Italy and the textures of the Old World.
I still yearn to return to Europe, for the Architecture, street life and food. My next trip will likely be to the British Isles, especially Scotland where my mother's ancestors were from. I will be found in cozy pubs and walking cobblestone streets, or perhaps Spain or Morocco, to soak in the Arabic influenced architecture and their colorful geometrically based designs.
Who knows? But wherever I go, I cannot help but be sensitive to and affected by the architecture, or perhaps more properly, the mood that the physical environment inspires. That is always invigorating to me and makes travel so very transformative.