1 post tagged “life art change moving poem”

Wow.
That time keeps on flying. We're losing months here. Someone locate the hemorrhage quick!
A lot has happened. Times they are a changing.
My Grandma K died.
I have this whole entry about her I keep meaning to do, but put off.
The million year relationship is really over and I'm finally moving out.
Moving is not fun. I have to move back to the moms house, because I just don't have the funds, and living here with the now x boy in a one bedroom apartment is torture. Slow horrible torture. Where we play back and forth between arguing and agreeing this is the best thing for everyone one and hooray unknown.
i love unknowns.. but it still makes my stomache churn.
I'm moving one rusty carload at a time. The moms said I could move there but I had to figure out how to get my stuff there. It's slow going. Let's peel the band aid off eeeeextra slow.
for good measure.
and extra pain.
i cried packing up all my clothes yesterday.
Even though this is all my choice and my doing.
My desire.
It's still sad to see all that time gone. And I remember banging in these nails in the side of the closet to hang purses and stuff on when I first moved in here. I remember that day and how good things seemed then. Or was that just how good i wanted them to seem?
i don't know. maybe it's just the history that hurts. the end. the change.
the empty hangers and drawers really did it.
There are like two million memories I've come across in this moving process, since i had to clean out my mom's basement for the 8th time and the room I am moving into.. which lead to having to clean out her computer room also. Needless to say I've come across some gems. Everything from my Cabbage Patch Kids, to every note me and my friends wrote back and forth to each other in like 6th-8th grades. (me and jamie wanted to somehow make them into a book someday...), to my great great aunts teeth she pulled out and rusty tools from when my grandfather owned his own Garage.
Going through all my art here that got wrecked in the awesome bedroom/basement flooding this year was sad. A lot of it was smelly and moldy. I tore off the moldy sections of some more save-able pieces and kept them. I came across these two little studies I had done back in the day when I was forced to make stuff all the time.  That was one of the good things about college.

So the plus side to my moms house is after reorganizing said basement for the 8 millionth time I can have a studio space down there. Which I will force myself to use. I repeat I WILL USE IT.
Hahaha. If I don't say that loudly enough it won't happen. But it has to. I have to make stuff more. If I'm gonna be an artist then I have to get with it already and dedicate. It's really the one thing I lack. I know it. I'm pretty sure even the cat knows it.
So maybe I'm not exactly moving up yet.. but at least it's out and forward.
Moving is so slow though and I've started to freak out because  Start on the Street is right around the corner and I got nothing. I got what's in the etsy shop now and some torn up old stuff. And some things I haven't listed, but nothing substantial. The magnet board is scarily bare. I have so much to make and do and I don't even have an established spot yet. I'm a mess. I'm boxes and caught between here and there. I've been trying to pack faster.
My mom & I sucked all the spiders and the cobwebs out of the basement at least.
It could happen.
In cleaning out the bookshelf I came across a book from this poetry class I took. I like to underline and circle in books sometimes.. if I really like them and their awesome fresh newness has worn off. Anyways. I had only circled one poem in the whole book.