Moving is one of these things that is so disruptive it’s hard to consider it as anything other than disruption itself. There is no way – at least for me – to put things where they go since there is no where they go when you are in a new spot. Luckily I have a new roommate who is excellent at organziational skill, planning, and vision, and has made this place pretty suitable so far.

Still trying to figure out where to work. Uncharacteristically, I type this on my PC at my desk – not where the blog muse used to live (perhaps the muse has moved simultaneously?). Traditionally, I write blog entries on my chromebook at the kitchen table, or on the couch while watching the local morning news and weather. Now that is a historical location for invention that doesn’t seem to have been packed or perhaps was damaged during transit.

There’s nothing like the auspicious, creepy, odd feeling of standing in your old apartment, free of all your things that made it yours, wondering about it. Same feeling in a new place as your boxes are coming in slowly. What is this space? That feeling is a rare one so I like to stand around and feel it, just to be able to remember.

The biggest thing about this old apartment is how much it creaks when there’s no furniture in there. I guess perhaps we could say that the weight of hundreds of books took a toll on the floor. I will erase this line if I learn that my old landlord reads my blog.

The new place is coming together and feeling good, but the most difficult thing to move in is practices. This is my attempt at starting up the weekly blogging practice once again, something I really love and enjoy but is so hard to make space for in the day. Why is that? Why are practices so hard to pack up and move?