The Pacific Palisades, a coastal town between Santa Monica and Malibu that my family made home in the early 1960's. 16518 Chattanooga Place raised my father and his four siblings, if the soot could talk it would tell you all about the tomfoolery that went on in that home. In 1961 my Grandmother, Grandfather, Uncle Merak, Uncle Seth, and my father drove in their 1958 station wagon from Newbrunswick, New Jersey to Venice, California. For around two years Venice was home base and my grandparents rented a small house, “a box”, as my dad recalls it being. A close friend told them about The Palisades and they moved into 16518 Chattanooga, where my Uncle Luke and Aunt Alicia were born. A two story home with a little patio, a deck that viewed the Pacific, and a back yard with plenty of room for a family. The house was remodeled in 1985, completely gutted and made new, this was the house I knew. 

Growing up the house was full and warm, emphasis on warm since there was no air conditioning but the cool sea breeze made up for it. Holidays brought a crowd and the kitchen reeked of life, like chess pieces family members shuffled on the big blue square tiles that lined the kitchen floor to get in line for food. Armenian dishes piled onto everyone's plates, it smelled of gold. Armenian string cheese, Lavash, Dolma, Lahmajoun, Boereg, Manti, and Rice pilaf amongst some American dishes. My childhood dog went from person to person seeing if there were leftovers. The house richly echoed with conversation and laughter for hours and hours. 

Sundays my family would surf at Will Rogers State beach, otherwise known as “Grandmas Beach”. Afterwards we would go eat lunch and spend the afternoon hanging out with my Grandma and my aunt. On a sunny day we would turn pink sitting on the deck watching the ocean sparkle while we caught up. A breeze would hit us every now and then and it would make the shadows from the blinds dance on the Armenian rug’s motifs. Years of sun hugged the color out of these woven stories that ran in the dining room, living room and hallways.

Apart from the rugs being some of my favorite art pieces my Grandmother had was of that on the wall next to the stairs. A framed oval shaped piece of Armenian lace. I dreamt to have that work of a dying trade be mine one day, such intricate soft detail that made you imagine how a human made it. Against the red background, the white lace popped and each line of thread led to another making it a maze for your eyes. Another favorite was my Grandmother's Tavloo board or as most know it, backgammon. Inlay of different colored wood and shell that made the game come to life as she slid the pieces around. The only piece that survived the fire was a ceramic sculpture that my Grandfather had made while taking classes at Santa Monica Community College in his older age. A woman’s body made from Terra cotta and its place was in the planter bed on the front porch, it greeted everyone who came and went.

My mother, an only child who didn't speak to her own family and was thrown into a big one, had a favorite spot at 16518 Chattanooga, in the corner of the couch with a glass of chardonnay. She watched and mingled when she wanted to, but I always knew she’d be in that corner. The Thanksgiving after she passed, there was a perfectly poured glass of wine under the lamp on the coffee table where she would always set her drink. Lamp on, the light illuminated the chardonnay. No one knew whose wine it was, I could picture her sitting there with us. 

These are only a few of my memories, I could probably write a short book about this house. My Grandmother and Aunt are safe and are still living together. The property will remain in our family and I look forward to the rebuilding of a house and town that will once again, bring us all together. 

The project shown above was my final for ceramics 1 at Moorpark Community College and I bent the rubric a bit as I usually do. The original project given was to make bookends that were based off a topic we were interested in and to write a paper about it. I didn't make bookends nor write the paper, but made something that made sense to me. Made from a mixture of multiple clay bodies, bone white, speckled buff, and recycled clay I rolled out slabs and got to building. I mixed in iron fillings that make the prominent spots throughout the clay. Many details later the house and rubbish were thrown into the first firing. Glazing the rubbish consisted of lots of layering to obtain different effects, needing the look of messy and charred. The house is realistic, I used an iron wash for the roof and painted on glazes that matched what the house looked like. Lots of anticipation and little patience to see what it would look like after the second firing, it turned out just as I would have hoped. I wrapped wire to make the front gate and balcony railing. These are accurate representations of 16518 Chattanooga before and after The Palisades Fire.