Nothing to look at, letting go.

My walls are bare, the rooms in my apartment feel larger. Those roommates, my babies, I've been living with for all these years have moved on to other homes, other owners. So this is what an empty nest feels like.

Ok, that was kind of dramatic.  But I've recently parted with paintings I've had for almost 7 years.  I've still got some left to keep me company,  but my living room does feel much larger, much more boring.  Same goes for the bedroom and of course the bathroom.  

I've started packing today.  Movers say I've got somewhere between 2000lbs and 2500lbs of stuff.  How did I get a TON, a literal ton of things?  And now I have to put those things in boxes.  Makes you realize how little you actually interact with these things.  I'm going to pack a box of books- most of which I haven't touched in years, gathering dust over the past 2 years (from the last time I moved).  I can't seem to part with most of them.  Is this the human condition?  Always holding on to things we don't want, don't need, can't use.  But we grip tight, just in case.  Always just in case.

One of the things that motivated me to make this move is a reflection on the above ideas.  In January of this year I was offered an opportunity to create a giant mural only to have it painted over, back to a stark white wall days later.  My first instinct was to say, "oh hell no."  I am easily attached to the things I love, the things I create, and the people around me.  I have a hard time letting go, and am fully aware of this.  I decided to take a chance- so I reconsidered and decided to participate.  I had to make something, and then give it up.  Hours and hours and hours I spent on this mural.  I loved every minute of it, getting lost in such a big space.  Weeks later when it was done, I stood proudly by it.  I called it "A World Map of Learning How to Let Go."  And that is exactly what it was, a study of myself and the ability to let go of something that had become near and dear to me.  It wasn't easy, those few days later, standing there with a roller and a tray of white wall paint, erasing everything that I had done.  Of course it was never really gone- I had pictures, I had memories, and I had witnesses to that work.  Still, it was a challenge to let go.  

And that's one of the motivations to my leaving Chicago (outside of the whole moving to be closer to my family thing).  It has my heart, and it has broken it many, many times.  And for now, even though this place is home, I'm letting it go.