Brick

Brick…the stories they tell

One thing I find very appealing and distinctive about the architectures in New York (especially in Brooklyn) is their brick façade. Similar in sizes, yet, varies in all shades of ‘brick’ red. Their colors, like wood grain, tell stories. The vibrant red ones are the younglings (10~20 years old); the dull pale ones are the elders with decades of experience. What is interesting is how they are able to co-exist in harmony. Often, when I look carefully, there will be patches of different red that dress a building. New bricks now block off an opening that no longer need be, or construct additional spatial components. As the usage of the buildings changes, the bricks grow with them and trap all the whispers of the past into their little cavities. We just have to sit quietly and listen to them telling us their stories.

Brick…the one that I got to know

I saw a pile of bricks in front of a yard a few doors down from me. I decided to take one home and get to know it. It felt very substantial in my hand. Its width (3.25”) occupied my entire palm (3.25”) as I stretch my fingers to grip it. If it is any bigger, I would have to flip it to its side to carry it home. But it was perfect. This brick was made with ‘me’ in mind.

Its size is 3.25 x 7.5 x 2.25 inches. I would imagine that its siblings are of similar dimension. Yet, no two bricks are alike (perhaps same skin within the same patch). This one is extremely porous. It has pores as large as 1cm and as small as those beyond my visual capacity, but within my imaginative scope. Each brick shapes its own identity with these pores in the constraint of the mould that they are made out of. The pores are their fingerprints. The pores are memory capsules that trap time and space of the past.

I gave it a quick sniff. I can almost smell the earth, dirt and layers of salt that have accumulated over the years.

My fingers pressed into its rough texture and felt the extreme coldness that it has absorbed from being outside. It warmed up quite a bit the next morning after a nice night indoor. Yet it still feels cool to my touch. Holding my palm 1cm away from it, I can still feel its cool breath. Its warm color exterior can be deceiving.

I still have to weight it before I can report its exact weight. However, I can tell you that it is heavier than it appears. I am glad that I had only taken one home.

Even though the bricks are modularity grouped, the surface is never completely flat. There are always subtle bumps that give them their charm.