But the first act that cemented the realization we'll be moving into a new home at the beginning of May was when we began removing the artwork from the walls this morning. The rooms immediately felt less complete...naked...revealing what the room once looked like years ago when we first moved into the rough-around-the-edges, 1900's era apartment; everything was unrealized possibilities and doe-eyed optimism. It's a wonder what artwork does for a space, particularly one as intimate as our studio/jr. bedroom apartment, and seeing our walls bare is a bittersweet affair.
We do not regret moving at all, as the new space offers similar character and charm with the addition of a wonderful view of Ivanhoe Reservoir (aka Silver Lake) and the luxury of more storage. But the act of packing underlines the fact we made a real home here instead of treating it as "just a rental", with artwork and the interior paints reflecting the two people (and two felines) that called the space home.
Next, we'll begin sorting through our books and records, figuring out what to keep, what to offer to friends, which ones to donate and what to simply throw out. Then we'll dive into the kitchen, then the closet where we'll brutally edit down our belongings, and finally the biggest furnishings will be prepped for the fews days before our move-in date. But in many ways, it was those first few pieces of artwork that made our space our home and that have evoked the strongest sense of impending departure with their removal, reminding us it is in the smallest details we find and define our homes, one framed piece at a time.