Over the last couple of days I packed 6 years of my life into boxes. I tossed about 60% of what I had accumulated, and gave away some more. I thought moving would feel more surreal. Apartments hold so much history, relationships, friendships, the good, the bad and the ugly. How would it feel to pack that all away?
Tonight I find myself writing this in my new room. It’s smaller than my previous one, the handle on the door is slightly skew. The ceiling is detailed. I can hear the cars pass on the street below, it’s raining and a flash of lightning just lit up the night. The floorboards creek when I walk on them just so, I’ll need to get to know them. It’s exciting. It’s new.
I think the difference is that for the first time in ages I feel like I’m moving forward into some else, vs running from things. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a million thoughts keeping me up some nights, but that’s simply the way of things. Change is as good as a holiday, or so they say right?
Anyway – here’s a roll of film I had developed but never posted. It’s a mix of Sea Point and New York, my two homes.