Burn It Down: A Reflection on Change, Rage, and a Hundred-Year-Old House
How often do you get to witness a century-old house on your childhood street go up in flames—intentionally set ablaze by a local church group, no less? The house was sacrificed, they said, to make way for a mega-church that few on the block actually want. The irony of that moment wasn’t lost on me. It felt like a scene out of a surreal, slow-burning film. Allegedly unwelcome, unquestionably real.
It was a cold winter day. I stood and watched, fascinated and furious. What I saw wasn’t just a house burning—it was a symbol of the time we’re living in. A time of erasure, of loud ambition that drowns out quiet history. Of power cloaked in righteousness.
This fire became fuel for something inside me. I began creating images that embodied the Angry Woman—a spirit channeling the grief, the rage, and maybe even a touch of Carrie White energy from Carrie. I paired them with Billy Joel's haunting song that echoed everything I was feeling in that chapter of my life. My own personal reckoning, captured through the lens.
Because this moment wasn’t born today. What we’re experiencing now—this unraveling, this blind momentum—started decades ago. We’re just seeing the flames reach the edges now.
And maybe that’s why a meme I saw recently hit so hard: God peering down from the clouds, the caption reading simply, “Next time, no humans.”
Some days, it’s hard not to understand that sentiment
