Wickenden Wanderings

As part of my research for my Wikitravel project I took a wander down Wickenden Street this week, looking at it with new eyes. Instead of just passing by the art galleries, I stopped into them and explored their offerings. It turns out OOP isn't the only local gallery with overpriced art. I could go to the glassblowers in Vermont and purchase the same pieces for a quarter of what the Wickenden Street artists were charging...but then I guess that is the difference between a bustling city like Providence and a rural, economically depressed region like Quechee, VT.

I also noticed how much the economic downturn has cut into the commerce of Wickenden Street - many businesses have closed shop, although many of those many were hair salons; and there are still several of those left. There were also a few foreclosed houses, the sight of which always makes me sad. If the American dream is to own your own home, foreclosure must be the American nightmare.

Store proprietors, noticing my notebook, asked me if I was writing for publication. "Sort of", was my reply, explaining my situation, which always makes me feel like I am "somewhere in between halfway there and someplace else". (I put that in quotes because as much as I would like to take full credit for those words, they are a twisted paraphrase of something posted on the wall at the Roger Williams University Library, where I spent much of my time the year I studied there. I was an "older" student, and was often made to feel like a square peg in a round hole; but the library was the one place where I always felt welcome). Sigh...now, I am rambling. How embarassing.

I have the credentials of a professional writer, along with an impressive portfolio - or rather, I had an impressive portfolio, until it was destroyed in a flood. At the time, that had felt like the final break between me and my "old life"...and that was when I started thinking about whether or not I truly wanted to leave that "old" life behind, or just wanted to update it. But then I digress, which is something I am known for in my writing...or rather, something I used to be known for in my writing. Maybe it is something for which I will be known for again? It was, after all, my niche.

Anyhow, most proprietors welcomed the attention, but others looked at me suspiciously; as if I was trying to publicize something secret - and maybe, in a way, I am. Wickenden Street is far less populated than the bloated Thayer Street, and is far less pretentious. Its inhabitants are older, and have a more mature view of the world; the kind that can only come from experiencing life, as opposed to just living it, and being able to compare the decades as they pass. This new knowledge has caused me to change the style of my article. I know it is last minute, but at the same time I know that this re-write will result in a much better project.