I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.




Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Where did I go and am I still there?

Well, where the hell have I been?

Packing!

Drastically downsizing.

We’re moving from a 2150 sq. ft. colonial into a 600 sq. ft. in-law apartment. (Tiny house.) That’s like fitting a double decker tour bus full of friends and family into a Smart Car. I’ve been going through stuff I haven’t gone through in decades. It’s heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. It’s freeing and yet the constraints of living with little to no space is frustrating. I might add though that the idea is very welcome.

Because of the many fires and floods this year across our country a lot of families have lost entire households of precious memorabilia as well as their day to day stuff. They didn’t have time to choose. The only choice they had was to save the ultimate, their lives.

I’m lucky because I’m making the choices of what stays and what goes. The choices have been relatively easy because almost all is going.  The photos stay but the “things” used by the people I have lost are on the way out. I’ve had time to explore the memories attached to each object and say a sweet goodbye to what once was. There have been emotional moments, like when my mother’s favorite blue bowl and vases which graced the center of our dining room table, sold at our yard sale. Sad to see it go but glad someone else would love and use them. I’ve come to believe that what we store away because of attachment should not be shut away but set free and shared.

Because our new in-law apartment is being built we have a couple of more months of living on the sidelines of a settled life. And until then, I have started writing again. (The novel is still in the works.) I have finally found a small spot in my daughter’s home (which was once ours) to claim as a space in which to write.

So hello. I’m here and counting down the days to resettlement.  Actually it’s kind of fun living in the guest room which my husband and I call our dorm room. From that double-decker bus to a smart car we are traveling an alternate route to a lighter and less stressful life. Now if I could just remember where my bathing suit is.