It's All About the Journey

Sunday, I got the message that the house I had fallen for was off the market. I was already planning how to organize the furniture and where I'd put my easel. The driveway was flat. The backyard was pretty. The stairs were too narrow and the carpet was so new the place smelled like stale smoke and fresh paint. It wasn't perfect and it clearly was not the one. I think I've gotten fully tired of settling. I'm gonna need more boxes. I swear, like half of mine are just gone. The ones that are the best size for packing. And I am left with doing most of that myself. I let myself be in that place entirely too often. I did finally order a whole pack of wardrobe boxes. And this is just a good excuse to clean out my closet and get rid of things that don't fit or that I don't need or want or wear. I guess that's a whole other metaphor. I guess everything is a sign if you want it to be. Yesterday, I went to look at a few more places. I have to tell you, this new rental ...

I started packing today. We haven't chosen a place, but we have a month and a half, so I had to either get to it or every moment I sit not doing it is a moment that fills me with guilt and anxiety. Things will be fine, I'm sure. But things will be fine because I do things to make things fine. That is me. I've almost finished in the living room. The bookshelves are empty, save a few talismans that I just want to keep in my sightline: a Janine glass cake box in emerald (maybe that's why it's my favorite color), a cathedral window pillow hand-quilted by my Nanny, a stupid pewter dragon, provenance unknown, I've just carried it around with me for a couple decades, so I'll just keep on taking it where I go. I sorted the boxes in the basement. I'm going to have to buy more bank boxes, as mine vanished (I suspect I do know where) and I'm grateful that in this iteration, it's not a pinch to spend a couple bucks on a box. I've assembled what remain, a...

Someone I care deeply for said not too long ago that I'm a control freak. My therapist said that she thinks it's more that I like to control situations. Tonight, that same person I love so much kind of fought me about a recent injury I want to take a look at to make sure it's healing well. It kind of all coalesced with this pensive moment today when I thought about if I were an actor, what would be my dream role? My first thought was Lady Macbeth. Scottish as I am. Then I realized I could be Macbeth. I could be Puck. I could be...anyone. And I chose Cordelia. I want to do good. I want to be the good child when being good serves no purpose, even. I want to be good. I want do do and be the good. And if that means tearing through my life like I'm on fire, then light me on fire. Or just let me believe you have so that I can burn for good. I haven't written much lately. Frankly, I haven't created much lately. I had a temporary, jealous, possessive, truly controlling ...