I am officially portable now. Yesterday, my dad came out and picked up all of my stuff (it’s now living in the shed behind his house). And with all the boxes went my beautiful workbench, my partner-in-crime for all of the jewelry and headbadges that I have made and all the experiments that have gone terribly awry.
A few years ago, when I started getting into metalwork, I asked my dad (who is ever-so-handy) to build me a workbench for Christmas. It was great fun to work on it with him and we created this beautifully simple, solid oak bench that has been the cornerstone of my studio as I’ve built my way toward my own artistic style. Yesterday, we took it apart and I waved goodbye.
And, honestly, I was side-swiped by how sad I was to see it go. I truly believe that I need this time of being portable to push me as an artist and allow me to move in the direction I want and try out some new designs. But, wow, watching it leave the building (with all my boxes) and then seeing the big gaping empty space in the apartment made everything feel very very real and these thoughts of “what am I doing? did I really make the right choice?” flooded into my head (for the first time since we decided to go).
Russ and I have been talking about how we feel like we’ve been in a bit of shock over all of this for the past few weeks. Just working on cleaning stuff out and not really able to focus on what we’re actually doing. Yesterday, as my stuff was hauled away (and then Russ’ later in the evening), the minor shock gave way to major shock and we both sat in our now-very-empty apartment and openly wondered if we were actually going to be able to do this. I’m feeling more calm about it today, so rest assured that we’re still going and we’re still determined to explore every ounce of this experience. But I have to be honest that there was a lot more emotion in letting go of my stuff than I ever could have imagined (I think because I hadn’t really realized just how much of my identity is wrapped up in these physical objects).
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