Voyeurism – Geoff Vanelli

Winston-Salem is an interesting place in North Carolina, it has a small town vibe but is increasingly becoming a modernized location. A city full of bustling opportunity and parking lots, graffiti and abandoned houses and historical districts. However, there is a part of Winston-Salem that is often forgotten about, a portion of the city that is full of archaic landmarks. The realm of a forgotten age, a place where I spent my childhood summers going to the neighborhood YMCA pool. A place where people will break into your house to steal a Sega Genesis game and a family can be raised with undying love. My grandmother calls this location home and I wanted to show you all how easily the hood can become heaven.

The City of Art & Innovation

A pair of shoes hangs over a court, the sky calls for the soles.

A lone bench sits among the fallen leaves.

Lingering Servitude

There are so many age old secrets hidden within this house. The older I get the more of my mother’s life I understand each time I visit her childhood home. I spent many of my youthful summers here with my cousin; there was no real entertainment so we allowed our imagination to take flight. We’d watch episodes of “Days of Our Lives”, walk around the neighborhood to the house that sold candy out the pantry, and play some Sega Genesis. It’s amazing to see the same decorations still holding their positions after all these years. Each time I come back I not only visit my grandmothers home, but to gain her wisdom and spend some time with my grandpa. He’s a little farther away from the house but still within driving distance; buried in the cemetery. There will be a post coming about him later so stay tuned.

Oven mittens covered in the smell of Thanksgiving.

A Bible that has sat on my grandmother’s end table ever since I can remember.

One of my grandmother’s many porch decorations, these statues can be found all up the street.

A stalwart bench watches over the backyard

The image below was my favorite from my trip, a locked gate. In the hood, many of the streets are lined with gates. Gates to keep in dogs, gates to keep out humans, and gates to show us a forbidden world. They are often chained and locked, and the owner is the only one who can open the door. However, there are times where the key is lost and the gate will remain closed forever, this is that time. A door on the side of my grandmother’s home that will never be opened again, flayed by the hands of time. What passage did it grant during it’s glory days I wonder?