Apartment dwellers | Lower Queen Anne

Images by Colin Stanley Hovde. Words by Adriana Nodal-Tarafa.
April 21, 2020

Taking portraits in the mix of old and new apartment buildings that make up our small subsection of Queen Anne meant we had a unique chance to meet some of our closest neighbors. Before that, organizing clothing swaps, engaging with Buy Nothing giveaways, and attending an immigrant rights support rally, had been the extent of our neighborhood involvement. We knew we wanted more. 

“[How] a hyper technologically connected city [...] turned from the freeze to actually use the tech to intentionally connect [has surprised me].”
— Jazmine

Living in Seattle is almost entirely new to Colin. Even though he spent his childhood in a Seattle suburb, Washington D.C. is where he spent the last fifteen years growing up as an adult. I moved from Mexico City to Seattle in 2005, but Lower Queen Anne had been my neighborhood only briefly once before. Classism and gentrification aside, I appreciate the multiplicity of identities now reflected in my neighborhood streets, as a consequence of Seattle's massive and rapid population growth. Both Colin and I find that the warm interactions outnumber any others, and that is a welcome side of change. 

“I have made a lot of good friends in the neighborhood over the past seven years in the same apartment, and it has become not just my [apartment], but my home.” — Lucas

In a complete break with the insular Seattleite stereotype, our neighbor Miz even suggested a post-physical-distancing get together with Resiliency Portraits participants. The thought of new and enhanced community ties is exciting to us. We also valued how openly Miz introduced the topic of mental health challenges, and its intersection with art-making, expression, and empathy, in the context of this pandemic. 

“Dealing with PTSD for many years prior to this has prepared me [well] for the rigors of isolation."  "I love to make art, I love [it] when other people make art, and I especially love making art *with* other people.” — Miz

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”Right now everyone is getting a taste of what prolonged disregulation is like. I hope the world remembers , and it informs our capacity for empathy and kindness. Also, [I hope] everyone [keeps] telling everyone they love that they love them all the time.”
— Miz

All the willingness to share earnestly and the laughs Colin and I have shared, enjoying how people express their personalities, help us realize how this is a gift from our neighbors to us as well. We are embracing the reciprocity in these exchanges. We are thankful that we can focus on a light moment for a few minutes, while the constant need for adjustment to resiliency routines and the specter of financial instability haunts the country and us with it.

"I saw a man sing the entirety of Eric Clapton's 'Cocaine' to a seagull [and] someone make an outdoor weight set by duct taping rocks to a piece of driftwood." — Erin

On the weekend that we began editing this photo-essay entry, the fifteen largest city parks in Seattle were declared closed for the first time. A walk, a jog, a bike ride, any time outdoors, are what people had been turning to for resilience, but unfortunately, parks started to get crowded, and we can't afford to lose the little ground we have gained on curbing transmission. Whatever unexpected adjustment you may be needing to make right now, we hope the pictures will give you a light-hearted moment too. 

"Interaction feels more precious. Everyone is thinking more about how others are doing mow. My plants are growing a lot more, maybe they [also] like company." — Erin