Time has transformed a random sunset shot out the window of my sabbatical apartment in Berkeley’s Normandy Village into a nostalgia-inducing pixel arrangement. Even the wood patterns in the window frames now stand out to me.
Tag: Normandy
Windy Night in Normandy Village
Odd angles and old brick in Berkeley’s Normandy village took on extra layers of strangeness on windy, rainy nights. (The blown-over trashcan in the corner provides additional evidence of the weather.)
Sabbatical Workspace
I came upon this charming shot of my desk in our Normandy Village apartment as I prepared a book of my 2017 photography. The perfect place to work on a sabbatical grant.
Normandy Cube
I’ve shown many parts of Berkeley’s Normandy Village, but perhaps not these square homes (that look like cubes with roofs jauntily capping them).
Back Door with Red Stairs
In the Normandy Village, even the back door to the fire escape and laundry room is weird and wonderfully overdesigned.
Complicated Structures of Normandy Village
Red Stairs Over the Laundry Room
Capturing pictures of the everyday and mundane details of living in a place as odd as Berkeley’s Normandy Village means that I can look back to the little details. This maroon fire escape served as the back door to our apartment, but also easy access to the shared laundry room—and thus a route I frequently traversed, trying to find a time when the machines were free.
That Was Home
Arriving at the one-year anniversary of the end of my sabbatical time in Berkeley, I’ve also reached the end of processing pictures that I took while I was there—though many more will be posted in the future. Our apartment was on the second flood of this build, where the screen of the same laptop on which I’m currently typing lights up the bottom-right corner of the window and the narrow slit of dark windows were over the kitchen sink where I’d cook dinner.
First-Order Castle Approximation
There are no crenelations, gates, or moats; this is not a place to hold off an invading force. Nonetheless, the châteauesque architecture of Berkeley’s Normandy Village seems like it could fairly be called a castle, filtered through generations of repeating architectural patterns. With each generation, the style moves farther from the functional reasons for its original existence.
Last Nights in the Normandy Village
The end of sabbatical meant saying “goodbye” to the Normandy Village and its quaint weirdness. I’ll always remember them as my collaborator described them: “The little Hansel and Gretel houses.”
Where the Cars Sleep
Given the extraordinary nature of the Normandy Village, “regular” cars seem oddly out of place. Perhaps that in part because the average car has grown so significantly in size since the little bays of the village were built.
Normandy Village, Inside and Out
My messy sabbatical desk in the Normandy, sitting next to some enormous (if leaky) windows, was home base for a glorious eight months. I’m glad I paused to take a picture of it as it was (rather than in perhaps a more photogenic state.)
Heading out from the Normandy Village, the crazy brick patterns, tiny windows hidden under the eaves, and trees sprouting from the concrete give way to the mid-twentieth-century architecture of Berkeley instantly. Exiting means stepping through some kind of spacetime membrane back to reality.
Normandy Village on Sunday Morning
Picture the setting: Berkeley’s anachronistic Normandy Village, early Sunday morning after a night of heavy rain. Quietly heading down the back stairs to get a cup of truly life-changing coffee. Passing by another tiny and odd Spruce St. apartment.
Night Trails in Normandy Village
The charming anachronisms of Berkeley’s Normandy Village look particularly distinct on a rainy winter night. The odd experience of living there is already wandering into the nostalgic parts of my memories.
Morning in the Normandy Village
After a night of storm clouds and rain drops, the historical oddity that is Berkeley’s Normandy Village is most charming. Little corner doors and bonus windows peak out from behind ever turret.
Decaseconds 