Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Moving day #2

The first thing I do when I move is hang pictures and artwork. It all looks fresh in the new configurations. I spent an hour arranging the top of the dresser in the bedroom, the only piece of furniture in the new apartment. I knew when it was right.

We went to work today and then stopped off at IKEA for the "art table." I said, "Let's not call it our study anymore. Let's call it our studio."

"Our creative room," Tom said.

"That's what a studio is," I said. Am I a violent negotiator?

We moved his desk and chair up. Pots and pans. His clothes are in his closet. My clothes will soon be in my closet. We moved up a dresser for Anne's room. We moved the wicker chairs onto the west balcony of the bedrooms.

I washed the hot pads.

The daffodils are crumpling in their pot.

A small anxiety rises in my throat.




2 comments:

  1. I haven't known many people who go back to where they started. Oh some never leave, but it's curious to consider going back and remembering and seeing the same field with a few layers of history added to it. If I had to go back to where I started, I might need more than a shopping cart and elevator. I would need a blood transfusion from the wrists I would have slashed.

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  2. We recently decided to start calling our spare bedroom "the conservatory" instead (even though it technically isn't). It just feels more wonderful. So I'm with you on "studio," all the way.

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