Disintergration and re-direction
Everything I own is moving, a chaotic transition of life and routines. Boxes filled with nostalgia, diversions, dreams, and all the forms, functions and clutter of living. All contracting to compartments and expanding in new spaces.
In the new space, I love the silence. I love the 20-year old Japanese maple tree. I love the sky-blue walls and the promise of re-direction.
Moving is exhausting, but it always seems to be cathartic, like a pruning and re-potting.
Kitteh is worried. I keep stroking his fur and promising him that everything is going to be ok, but I understand how he feels. Change is unsettling. Even when you know that it will be lovely.
In the new space, I love the silence. I love the 20-year old Japanese maple tree. I love the sky-blue walls and the promise of re-direction.
Moving is exhausting, but it always seems to be cathartic, like a pruning and re-potting.
Kitteh is worried. I keep stroking his fur and promising him that everything is going to be ok, but I understand how he feels. Change is unsettling. Even when you know that it will be lovely.