Moving is something that has become a part of my genetics at this point. Having grown up with my parents separated and pursuing their own lives, it meant that I was always moving between houses regardless of whether or not I would return to them. Sometimes it was just going away for the weekend, and ~11 times it meant that we were actually moving out of the house.
We have moved 4 times since 2008 and we are about to move again. There is always a chance, as a renter, that your landlord will want to sell the place and it is their right to do so. When we found the condo in 2015 it was a saving grace, but it’s best to jump back a bit.
Early 2013… I want to say… we found our own place ahead of the wedding and settled in with a few roommates. The room that became our bedroom had a small offshoot from it that evolved into my first creative space. Walls were covered, writing desk was in the corner, scheduling work was laid out, and overall the space just inspired.
When you are a creator of any kind, it is nice to have a space that is your own – a place where all of the tools and mess can come out, a place that is yours to fuel the fire. As a writer, my space is usually a combination of books, tools, a desk, pictures and words, memories, and things that I’ve collected to help spark my brain when it decides it’s blocked. It’s a massive combination that sometimes requires rotation… which rarely happens so some stuff just gets left in a box for a while.
Our landlord then had to declare bankruptcy a few months before our wedding… so… it was a bit of a nightmare at the time and I was less worried about dismantling my space. We had to stay with my in-laws until after the wedding so that we could focus a bit more, and then after we found this condo. It was in town, walking distance to work (for me it was 5 minutes), and it had a niche for creativity. Our property manager came for an inspection and said that it was the best use for that area that she had seen in the condos. The layouts are pretty much carbon copy on our side of the building – so she’d likely seen a few.
Catching back up to today – my space is a combination of stuffed animals, beanie babies, pillows, a desk, fan art, Zillas, book shelves, books, sewing, cosplay, printer, post cards, stamps, … there’s just a lot in there for such a small space and it just works. This time we have two months to leave (why we didn’t last time is another story) and the dismantling of the room has begun – it’s hard.
That was a long lead up to get to this point, but taking down all of my inspiration and sparks is sad. There’s a chance that we won’t have this room in the next place (yet to be found), so there is a chance that I may not see some of these things for a little while. I actually started to pack up the stuffed animals and beanie babies first (they were on the top shelves) and I started to think about purging. Did I really need the 20+ beanie babies that I bought in my early 20s because I had thought they’d be worth something… I’d keep the ones my Dad got me when I was a kid… but the rest of them? I sorted out a chunk of them and turns out I could make about $300 from them if they sold at top price… but then I started to second guess.
It had now been 4-5 weeks since we found out the condo was being sold, and two weeks since the sale was finalized and I have one shelf packed and another on the floor… this is a struggle. It feels like the loss of creativity – which is even harder since I had been revising Teagloom for a hopeful print in June. One box and the wall covers down… except for my pink display board which I have no idea how to pack. If I remember correctly, we had a long skinny box last time… but it was horrible, heavy, and falling apart.
Happy to say that we managed to find a place and we have moved in. The tear down of my office at the condo was hard. It had been my niche for all things writing for two years and was just starting to feel like home. Our new place has a bigger space for me – a bigger space for my words and creativity. There are still a few things to organize and hang, but the exciting part is that I finally had the space to bring the chair!
This is a bit of a side tangent, but too bad!
When I was a kid, I used to visit my great-great-grandparents at their home. My grandmother was partially raised by her grandparents, so they were always a big part of our lives. Most people don’t get to know that many generations before them. We would visit their apartment in the home, check out the tea room, and sometimes stay for dinner. There was a creek that created its own path along the outskirts of the property, and it always seemed to be a relaxing place to be despite the inevitable death of the all of the occupants.
Point – my great-great-grandfather had this pale green, high back, winged, la-z-boy type of chair in their place. He was always in it, never said much (likely due to his health), but I could always crawl up beside him for a hug. After he passed away the chair stayed in the same place. After my great-great-grandmother’s health decline, she was moved in with my bajillionth-cousin and my grandmother ended up with the chair. When I saw it in my grandparents place it seemed sad and out-of-place. They also got their couch and love seat, but that pattern… I don’t think I could get that pattern past Mr. A at all. It’s a very floral-esque – but the chair is stoic. And now it’s here in my office and I hope it will rub off its history and tradition on me and my creative processes.
So out with the condo and in with the townhouse. Here’s to brighter and better creative spaces and, now that we are settled, here’s to getting Teagloom all squared out! (More on that next week)
-A
A. N. Stetzl 