This week, I am walking and thinking about grounding, the railroad, and the Sears Catalog. I am walking and thinking about home, history, and roots. I am walking and thinking about story, art, and community. We landed in Atlanta and immediately landed on the Beltline and explored it to the fullest. The pieces on which I focus this week all highlight why Atlanta is home. I seek to be grounded in who I am. I am made from German railroad workers. I grew up loving repurposed spaces, pubic art, and long walks through lots of trees.

“To be grounded in who we are today, we must first remember our roots”

“To be grounded in who we are today, we must first remember our roots.” Lisette Correa, Arrrtaddict

I have lived all over the Unites States. Big and small cities. College towns. North, south, east, and west. I have found pockets of cool in each place. Moving has strengthened my love for my roots. Just as e.e. cummings celebrates the both the root and the bud, my roots connect my past, present, and future. Just as plants and trees survive by the strength of their roots, so do people. Our roots are our story. Our stories connect. In this way, remembering is both a celebration and lamentation. In this way, we are grounded. In this way, we thrive. 

Arrtaddict makes sense. Sense in the way it all comes back to our roots. Let me explain. I believe we are the sum of our experiences. All of them. Our understanding of home. Our appreciation of culture. Our ability to create. Our connection with one another and our world. Our capacity to serve. That deep in our bones knowing that allows stillness and gratitude. I could go on and on about why our roots matter.

This mural makes me want to ask questions. It makes me wish I had talked with my grandparents more about their roots. It makes me understand the value of spending real time together — learning card games, making recipes from the church cook book, watching home movies, having my hair permed, working in the garden, going to the Derby, memorizing prayers in German. It makes me wish I could hunt down the polaroid pictures I took at every turn for many years. It makes me wish I had kept a journal throughout it all. I am only as grounded as I am in touch with all that.

Railroad Workers

Railroad Workers, Jac Coffey

I come from a family of German railroad workers. Both my mother’s and father’s family worked on the Louisville to Nashville Railroad many moons ago. This sculpture reminds me how close we are to our stories. Our stories are us. We carry them. Much like these steel works of art, we repurpose, weather, witness, play, and remain. Railroad Workers connects where I live and work to where my family lived and worked.

If we are lucky, we learn about those that came before. Their stories ripple into our own like waves of generations, even ages. Their stories are our narrative DNA. Our work. Our community. Our legacy. Our love. When we learn the stories, we understand ourselves that much more. In learning our stories, we learn how beautiful and connected we are.

Ponce City Market

Ponce City Market

We lived in the Flats at Ponce City Market for two years after we arrived in Atlanta. From the 1920’s through the 1970’s, Ponce City Market was part of Sears Roebuck. It was the hub of Sears’ Southeastern United States catalog distribution. My grandmother was an avid Sears Catalog shopper. I know in my bones I received childhood gifts that had made their way through Ponce City Market. That story connects me with her and to my current home. That makes my heart smile. I remember her asking me to look at the catalog and choose a few things for my birthday and Christmas while my wide eyes danced. I remember dog eared pages in the book crafted to make sure she knew exactly where I wanted her to look. She loved Sears. I loved Sears. She loved me. I loved her.

Read Taking A Walk #1 here

Read Taking A Walk #2 here

Read Taking A Walk #3 here

A Note on my Atlanta Beltline Writing Project [This paragraph appeared at the bottom of every post in the original project.]

I am practicing paying attention. I am practicing noticing beauty. I am practicing getting in touch with my artist self. I am practicing connecting with the outdoors. I am practicing my inner Mary Oliver. I live in Atlanta, “the city in a forest.” I live on the Atlanta Beltline, an interurban trail that graces the city. The Beltline is part arboretum, part art gallery, part park. It connects shops and restaurants and homes with people of all descriptions. I walk on the Beltline 4 or 5 times a week. I have spent the last year appreciating all that it is. I have personally photographed the images I will share. I hope to write about it — its art, trees, landmarks, etc.— for the next few weeks as spring unfolds.

Thanks for taking a Beltline walk with me. Subscribe to the Wide-Awakeness Project to take more walks, look at art, smell magnolia, and move in community with others and our world.