I moved across the country for the third time on Monday from Upstate, NY to central California. I'll be living in San Jose for a time until I find the right place in San Francisco. I'm in no rush, really, and have no interest in stressing out over finding an apartment. I'll take my time, settle in, figure out where things are and how to get around, get to know my new home state of California...
The move was challenging, of course, and not without trials. Weather caused many flights into and out of O'Hare to be delayed or cancelled. My first flight was rerouted and after a few hours on the tarmac, refueling, and a damage inspection due to hail, we made it to Chicago. I spent the night in a hotel and got on a plane to California the next day.
As for my things, my two 50lb suitcases made it, remarkably. The rest of my things were packed into a storage unit that is now so disorganized the mere thought of it makes my skin crawl. A friend and I joked that it just wasn't a move without random things in your pockets after moving everything (like the key to my acetylene tank), or the last few things thrown haphazardly into the back of the car and then thrown randomly into boxes with out packaging materials or labeling.
It was bittersweet to leave my little Lake Street Studio. The moment before I left I stood in the empty room and thought about the things I made there, some really special, important things... work about my family and my home, most specifically. I discovered a great deal about myself and my practice in the year and a half that I was there. I revisited important spots, uncovered memories, and reconnected with the place that will always be my home.
Thanks for reading.