Knocking Out a Wall

Yesterday knocked out a section of wall in order to widen the inexplicably narrow doorway of my only closet — a lot of old Brooklyn closets are designed like this. As if humans used to be narrow, like ribbons, with arms that bent in all directions. It really was a process of knocking-out. Some sawing involved, but mostly bludgeoning. This wall appeared to have been built in the King Arthur period. Thin layer of white plaster over a thick layer of mud-colored plaster — indistinguishable from mud, actually — over horizontal slats. All held up by rough-sawed 4x4s that still had bits of bark on them — surprised to see that barnlike touch, here in a New York City apartment. I was smart enough to put plastic over the doorway before starting, confining the dust cloud to my bedroom. Big fan aimed out the window enabled me to breathe. Took two hours just to scoop, vacuum and sponge things up afterward. Six contractor bags filled to breaking point. Which is not the same as “full,” since the brown plaster, or sandy river mud, or whatever the technical term is, makes for a heavy bag very quickly. Did some improvisational carpentry, reusing bits of lumber along with a couple of new pine boards from the hardware store, to frame out the ragged hole I created. Not a thing of beauty, but now I can access my whole little closet, not just half of it.

~ Email to Rob, July 18, 2004