Cobwebs

These old New Orleans houses have countless entryways for outside life to sneak in. Stuffing cracks with Brillo pads is effective, but one could never cover each and every hole. Ants, spiders, weevils, lizards and yes, roaches - massive, winged, alien from Men In Black type roaches. Most of these adventures are just passing through, trying to find their way back out. But the spiders…the spiders like to linger. They can sense which corners are suitable for building, living, hunting and mating.

First the webs are invisiblem the filament too then for the naked eye to catch. The spiders mind their business. I mind mine. But with time, these corners become matrices of dust and debris and the webs become more visible. Periodically, I realize it’s time again to cut through these cobwebbed clouds.

For me, cleaning and thoughts about time go hand in hand. I take the vacuum hose to these spider estates and wonder, when is the last time I did this? I remember the day somewhere off in the distance. The space between then and now feels like a blur. But this moment, my knees pressed into the wood, is a checkpoint. I survey the story line of my life and ask what part of the story am I living now? What does my character represent in this narrative? The corner clearing ritual is physically cleansing and encourages me to think about other parts of my life that maybe collecting dust. Perhaps in my work or my relationships.

Written by Kenniese Franklin