Half the hallway closet is already in boxes and my arms still look like this.
Can’t tell anymore if it’s the dust from packing, the heat finally kicking on, or just the season doing its usual thing. Probably all three honestly.
Some mornings I open a box of old sketchbooks and just stand there scratching instead of looking through them.
The showers have gotten longer and hotter than they should be too. Mostly because the house feels cold now with half the furniture wrapped up and already gone.
I used to have a loose kind of rhythm since retiring. Sketch in the morning, sort one box in the afternoon, nothing urgent. That rhythm is gone right now. It is just boxes and lotion and trying to remember which bag the moisturizer ended up in.
Kept stalling on sorting the art supplies this week too. Hard to explain why. Just tired of my hands feeling raw by the time I get to the part where I actually decide what stays.
– the pastels: still deciding
– half the brushes: probably going
– the good watercolor paper: staying no matter what
Some days the whole moving process feels like it is working against the one routine I finally had going. Lotion right after the shower, not before. Keep the house warmer than feels necessary. Do not touch the boxes without something on my hands first.
None of that matters much when there are still boxes stacked against every wall waiting to be gone through.
Just needed to get this out somewhere 🌧️