Home to hundreds in it's long lifetime, it's last four years as a squat has seen it under constant threat of eviction and providing continuous, eccentric shelter for an ever changing population.
The quirks in this tall thin house include: a washing machine that needs to be operated using a screw and an iron bar (and until recently a head-torch); an oven which needs an upturned bowl to support the oversized oven shelf at an angle in order to allow the door to close (resulting in some fine wedge-shaped cakes that have become a speciality of mine); an electric hob which electrocutes the unwary; an electric wiring system that combines electricity cables with water pipes in a jaw dropping manner; and until it was recently thrown away, a kettle that required an upturned colander and a big plastic bowl.
This house is quirky, filled with memories, personality and life, and it is difficult for me to explain how thoroughly it has become my home. In the last few weeks (after our most recent eviction threat) we have been fighting battles against bed bugs, fleas, heat, dirt, smells, rats, mosquitos and piles of junk, and we have been winning. The work has pulled those of us left in this house closer together and has given all of us a sense of pride and ownership in the home we are building.
Anyway, filled with love for this crazy place, I present to you my most recent collection:
My house is made of stairs.