Like everyone, I don’t like moving. For two years I’ve rooted myself into that place. While I don’t really have an attachment to the place, the upheaval is a bit chaotic for me, who generally thrives on chaos. I think it has to do with having a safe harbor, a base of operations, a bat cave. The place itself is of little consequence, it is the ability to centrally locate my stuff and myself. This will be the 12th place I’ve lived in my lifetime. My moves were seldom inconsequential, most were life changing. While moving across town in Oxford, Ohio really didn’t have any impact on my life; moving four miles down the road from my parents 1st house to the “new house” (in 1983) was a sea-change, with new friends and new schools and my own room. Many of the moves involved education. I did the Texas two step, twice moving to Texas for grad school, and moving residences twice while I was there; all four of those moves were major moments, dramatic dénouements in my educational and personal development. The move to St. Louis and SLU for college and the move from the dorms to fraternity house were also critical to the development of who I was to become. Lastly comes the move to Duluth, my first move above I-70. This was the first move on my own, for anything other than school. It was also a move to a place where I only knew two people (my grad school friends Ted and Sheena). But like every move so far it was eventful and life-altering (although I will reserve the right to reflect upon the nature of that altered life several years down the road with more of a historical perspective). I moved without seeing the place, mostly via some photos from my friends and a few emails. I fully expect this latest move, even though it is less than ½ a mile, to be just as important a life event as each of the others has been. This will be the first time I will have had a roommate since I was in the dorms in college. Granted, choosing to live with an amazing, smart and talented partner (AKA Sara) is much different from some randomly selected dude who happened to have requested the same dorm building as you. It will be interesting and a big change for me and Rio, who will be getting some more four footed friends in Sara’s two grey Manx kitties, Stella and Mosley. This part of the move isn’t happening for a little bit (Sara’s lease goes until November), so for the move is only about my stuff. And stuff I have. You don’t really realize how many things you have accumulated until you have to transport everything you own from one location to the other. When I moved from Waco to Duluth, I lucked out in that part of my fellowship included professional movers who packed everything (including the recycling), put it in a truck, and put it into my new apartment. That event may have lead me to believe that moving wasn’t so difficult. When you don’t have to actually carry all your shit up the steps, having more stuff doesn’t seem so bad. Now that I’ve come to the realization that I have to make 3000 trips down my current steps and up my new steps (and in some cases back down the steps to basement storage area); maybe I do have too much stuff. Alas, it was too late. There was no time for sorting, no time for culling, only time for packing and moving. So that is what I did doing. Luckily I’m moved between buildings owned by the same landlord, so he’s giving me a couple of extra days to complete the move. Over the first couple of day I just piled stuff in the spare bedroom, so that I can eventually figure out where everything goes in the new place. I am much better at spatially arranging things when the actual things are present. I can try to do everything by drawing or in my head, but in the end it will never really be as I envisioned, so I’m going to wait till everything is in place and then rearrange. The movers came yesterday and were an enormous help. I don’t think I could have done it myself (although I would have eventually done it, they just shortened the timeframe of moving all the big stuff). They moved six fish tanks, six stainless steel rack systems, a couch, loveseat, and chairs. Even with there help I still made an many, many additional trips, including one more with the Uhaul. The apartment looks pretty full now, although it will look better once stuff is put away. My body aches. My legs are stiff from so many trips up and down steps. My hands hurt from carrying stuff. My thumb hurts to touch from trying to hold too much weight with only my thumb. But the more I move the more excited I became about the next step of my life. It drove me up the step, with mostly a smile (ok there were quite a few MFers and sh*ts but mostly from pain not from dislike). I like to think of how I would write my autobiography, where the chapters would end and where they would begin. Duluth is a chapter, the end of school, the beginning of my new professional life, but I think this moment, this movement, is start of a new chapter.
No photos today, it was sweaty and hard work, which don’t make for great photos. Instead I’ll rock a second haiku for anyone who takes the time to read this. Although not really a much of an enticement, I felt a post should include some art, if not pictures, then poetry. This is really about how I felt this morning when I woke up for the first time in my new place.
A new place to wake
I stare at the mourning lake
A new dawns slow rise