Post # 1 - A blast from the past brought back by a complete stranger from Germany all the way to California

I woke up this morning, just like every other morning, and checked messages on my phone; however, this morning I came across an article posted by a friend on Facebook. It was a story about the neighborhood where I grew up roughly 50 years ago, which is located over 5,500 miles away from where I am right at this very second...

The post got my attention!

I was barely awake when I clicked on the link, which took me to a website that featured a picture of a house. The house was none other than a picture of my Great-grandparent's house, and MY HOME for the first couple of years of my life.

This old colonial landmark sadly shows how it has decayed and survived three huge earthquakes in almost two centuries.

It was built by Jacinto Cueto and Juan De la Cruz Sotomayor in 1839.

I searched Google, repeatedly, looking for more pictures, something, or anything at all to help me reconnect with my memories from this place.

Sadly, there is no such picture online.

Almost five decades have turned this place into a far cry from how it used to be!

After two hours, plus three cups of coffee later and still in bed - in California - I found an art project led by a woman from Germany - "Pulling Strings"- which took place inside the house where I was raised by my Great-Grandfather in Chile!

My jaw dropped to the ground!

I must have watched her video at least a dozen times. The more I heard Eva's description of her work, the more I remembered sounds, smells, even my entire perception of my life as a child.

This picture took my breath away, it evokes vivid and different memories of literally every spot on this image!

I see all those people standing there, waiting to enter the house that shaped my childhood.

They are about to go into the house knowing nothing about it. They are creating their own ideas about how life must have been once upon a time...

These people are standing in front of this big old house, the same way I was introduced to it back in the early 70s.

Just like them, I also stood in front of those long wooden doors. However, for all those people, this house was a short-lived tour. For me, this place symbolizes "My Great-Grandfather". The man I called "TATITA".

The man who unintentionally shaped the woman I've become, my sense of humor, sarcasm, the way I cook, the need to question everything, the love for Edith Piaf, and so many other little quirks that I inherited from his personality.

It was not until I stumbled upon Eva's work that I realized how much he lives in me. Not a day has gone - since I last saw him 34 years ago before moving to the U.S. - that I don't see life through his eyes.

It is somewhat difficult to explain, but although he passed away in the late 80s, I still feel a connection with him,. The older I get, the more I understand him... To this day, I still quote him!

I have so many stories to tell about that house from the front door to its very last inch.

I'll be posting stories and photos, so when someone walks by, they will know what kind of life was once lived there...Perhaps a handful of stories will be more than enough to wake up the big old house.

Before I go, I have to say thank EVA MYER-KELLER.

Her work got my inner child out of the mute button.

It will be quite an experience to look back on my life through the eyes of the little girl I once was...