#task 003

Every family has its terrible secrets... Read the sins of the The Arlay-Sinclair Family.

She was the stage.

Once, Nicolai thought of a well-tailored suit as a piece of armor - donned to wade through the metaphorical bloodbath that was high society. Now, they were chess pieces on a far deadlier battlefield, and some rational part of him railed at the fact they were still expected required to dress to the nines. And yet, as he examined himself in front of the mirror with a critical eye, Nicolai couldn't help but preen for a moment, ever the connoisseur of fine stitching and craftsmanship. At least, if he ended up dying, he'd do it in style.

Since moving in, Antonio has made several adjustments to reflect his tastes. He hired a stager to bring a sense of warmth and personality to the neutral palette by incorporating rich greens in the kitchen, calming blues in the bedroom, and other soft hues throughout the house. Antonio also converted the basement into his personal recording studio, allowing him to compose and work from home without the need to commute — a practical touch that accommodates his profession as a lyricist and composer. One of the smaller bedrooms serves as his “rec room,” a space he’s set aside for relaxation and reading, as well as a place to unwind privately with a smoke, where his cat, Moon, isn’t allowed access. The main living area is anchored by a large, plush couch, which Antonio chose with comfort in mind, ensuring it was supportive enough for both relaxation and, well, intimate endeavors. A weekly housekeeper helps keep the expansive space tidy, and a gardener maintains the neatly manicured front lawn, allowing Antonio to focus on his work. Despite his efforts to personalize the space, the home’s grand scale often leaves him feeling lonely, an emptiness he finds difficult to shake. While he admits it might make a perfect family home for someone else in the future, he jokes that his basement conversion may pose a minor challenge to that dream.

Clementine Wood’s studio apartment may be small and worn, but it’s unmistakably hers. Despite what the description of the apartment might say online, the place comes with its fair share of quirks: the basement laundry room is almost always out of commission, the kitchen appliances work about as often as they don’t, and the landlord is a rare sight. The bed has to be shoved up against one wall to create enough room for a modest living area, and there’s likely mold creeping somewhere in the walls. But, hey! At least there’s a functional fire escape. Inside, Clem’s apartment is a canvas in itself, a vibrant, unapologetic tribute to her love for art. The walls are spray-painted in a chaotic burst of color, covered with sketches and bits of graffiti, and behind her bed sprawls a mural of Blue Harbor’s view over Cardinal Hill. Art spills across every surface, layered over any patch of blank wall with more of her creations, as if they’re pieces of her personality on display. Plants fill the space, too — lining the windowsills, spilling over corners, and even hanging from the ceiling. The air smells fresh and earthy, with a faint hint of citrus from the lemons ripening on a tiny tree she’s somehow managed to coax into life in the kitchen. Amongst the art and greenery, she’s carved out a cozy corner for her blue budgie, Dionysus. His cage and a few perches make up a small, lively nook of the apartment, adding a touch of warmth and companionship. Clem has called this place home since she first struck out on her own at 18, and despite its faults, she’s transformed it into her sanctuary — a little slice of Weaver Ridge that’s all her own.

@elliottgilbert-wmu