dear providence — Blog

Words by Ayisha Jackson

Dear Providence, you are beautiful. You may not be Florence, or Paris, or Vienna, but you’re beautiful all the same. On a cool fall day, I can walk with you. On this walk I’ll encounter a river. Decades ago, developers decided a waterway would make a nice addition to the cityscape, and they were right. I can turn to my left and see the sun illuminate the brownstone buildings, producing the perfect shade of red to complement the late afternoon blues and oranges of the sky. I can see one of many murals that so vibrantly ornament downtown; it’s alluring. I’m reminded that there is activity happening, there is life being lived, and there are stories being told in this city.

Christina StrachoffFebruary 5, 2019dear providence

Dear Providence: Awaken

Words by Scott Axtmann

Dear Providence: I adore you! You’re like a massive art installation spanning hundreds of blocks. You ravish me and ruin me. You fuel my imagination and provoke me to pray.

While sitting at my corner table in Saint Monday, a new cafe on West Fountain’s cobblestone street, an old friend approached me during my time of scribbling into my notebook. He seemed more vibrant than usual, perhaps because his wife was about to give birth to their first child. He’s a design guru whose innovative thinking earned him a RISD degree and a TED talk just out of school. The short chat sent my pen flying in a new direction. It’s mysterious how my interaction with this messy little city impacts how I think and create.

REN AdminJanuary 29, 2019dear providence

Dear Providence: City of Art

Words by Christina Strachoff

Two minutes into my eight minute drive down Broad Street, I’ve already encountered three pieces of public art. The first, on my left, is a square mural on the wall of my church, Renaissance. The words, “I love Providence”, and our city’s skyline stand out against a background sea of yellow, blue, and orange pastels. Not far ahead is the second, a towering smokestack by Classical High School adorned with spray painted slashes of rainbow, deep purple, and black. The bands of color are carefully shaped and pointing in every direction; their energy is like streaks of lightning. Beside Empire Loan, I see the third piece, vibrantly colored sheet metal cutouts dancing along a nearby fence.

Christina StrachoffJanuary 22, 2019dear providence

Dear Providence: The Machine

Words by Matthew Talamini

Moby-Dick starts with a road. The kind of road, Ishmael says, that you can take when you're restless. A road that goes downhill, to the waterfront, like Socrates going down to the Piraeus in The Republic.

Point Street is that road for me. It traverses my neighborhood of fanciful, brightly-colored gingerbread houses, boards over their broken first floor windows and piles of rotten furniture on the sidewalks, and then continues east over the Providence River to the vicinity of Fox Point. You can see me jogging down it some evenings.

REN AdminJanuary 15, 2019dear providence

The Citylove blog contains reflections on life in Providence: its culture, its community, and the presence of God throughout the city.

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