Separation Anxiety

Odd Bird Studio is on the move! 

I don't know about you, but I find moving a harrowing experience. I typically make myself crazy with attempts (and insistence) to organize everything. Absolutely everything that has slipped through the cracks for years. Moving is the time to open unopened mail, mend the unmended clothes, file the unfiled papers. Create a new book shelving system, reassess my studio tools and storage needs, create a new filing system. Cull the wardrobe, clean the pantry, plan a yard sale.

That television ad from years and years ago comes to mind often: STOP THE MADNESS!

This time around I'm trying something new. Putting items into boxes without thinking about it. Sealing up the boxes before I change my mind. It's quite radical, I know. And much faster than the agonizing process that is my usual moving mode. See? The towering bookshelves are nearly empty. Hmm. Could be on to something here.

Even though the empty shelves are a bit distressing - not as if I have time to delve into a in-depth lesson about how to dress a loom or knit a fair isle sweater, but still, not having the opportunity available is what matters - they pale in comparison to the separation anxiety that packing my sewing machine inspired. A sharp intake of breath and a momentary feeling of having a part of me severed accompanied this package.

Before packing her up, I managed to squeeze in one last quick project to tide me over. A new clothespin bag (on the right) to replace the stained, torn, disintegrating, falling apart, generous-to-still-call-it a bag (on the left). The new(ish) bag is part of a leg from a patched pair of jeans, a belt from an old bathrobe for the casing, and a drawstring from a long forgotten piece of clothing or other.

You bet I know exactly where this box now resides. And that it will be one of the first ones to be unpacked.