Thursday, March 10, 2022

All Packed Up



I’ve always moved myself. From home to college to the next new home and the next and the next, I wrapped, packed, labeled and carried out boxes from place to the other. Then, I unpacked. 


This time, it’s completely different. On Tuesday, a team of women arrived with stacks of new packing boxes, wrapping paper, bubble wrap and tape. They meticulously inventoried my downstairs. Then proceeded to wrap and pack everything from glasses, silverware and china to paintings, rugs, tables and chairs. They even wrapped up my ziplock bags and garbage can. 


They were amazing. They were so organized. And I’m forever grateful.


Studio chaos. 


What they didn’t pack was my studio. The water didn’t damage anything in there, thank goodness. So no reconstruction is necessary. While the rest of the house was broken up, my studio remained an oasis of calm during the chaos. Until this week, of course. 



Due to the demolition that will be happening in the rest of the downstairs, I worried about possible damage to my porcelain ceramic work. It was recommended that I take tall pieces down and pad them with bubble wrap. So I spent Monday wrapping and securing my work as best I could. 



I also had a bisque load in the kiln that needed to be unloaded. And then, find a safe place for all of those pieces. And I’m in the gallery for Ceramic Showcase, so I needed to be sure those pieces were secure and ready to deliver if the construction goes longer than expected. 



My studio is not and will not be a creative retreat or workable space for a month or more. It’s hard in many ways. I won’t be able to play with color or glaze the new pieces. Most of all, during this turbulent time, I won’t have my hands in clay to calm and ground me. 


Empty nest demolition. 


After originally spending a year designing and building this home, it’s going to be very hard to see it torn apart. Now I know that it needs to be done. I know this will insure we have a safe and solid great room and kitchen. But it’s hard. 



It’s hard to see all the boxes and furniture hauled away to parts unknown. 

It’s hard to see my beautiful floor, cabinets and counters ripped out. 

It’s hard to see it completely empty except for cobwebs and dust.


And it’s an very empty nest right now. 

But outside the window, I see buds and beautiful blooms. 

And I hope my new nest will bud into something just as beautiful. 

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