28 August 2006
clearly, I have no idea how this whole 'days of the week' thing works. that's what it must look like, what with so many of my recent photobooth fridays showing up on saturdays, sundays and now (gulp) mondays. actually, I was about to let this one pass, but I couldn't. I just COULDN'T even though I'm up to my eyeballs in paint (soft white satin interior, if you must know). there's paint in my hair, on my toes, my hands, the backs of my legs. the new house is a little, how you say... rough around the edges. needs several gallons of paint to smooth it out. I haven't packed the first thing. I'm in some strange holding place, walking around the old house like we're not about to uproot and vacate in four short days. I put clean towels away in the hall closet with nary a thought to the big hot mess this house is about to become. it's only been three short years since we last moved, so I vividly remember the work involved, the chaos that moving brings on the entire family, the unfamiliarity of sleeping in a new place. still, I walk around as if nothing is about to happen. and it's not because I don't want to move-- I'm prepared, I've made my peace with it. I'm ready to inhabit a fresh space, I'm open to the change. but something is strange. I feel strange.
one tradition I have is to take a photograph of the refrigerator door right before we move. there are always photobooth strips on the fridge (yes, of course)-- they're part of a small kitchen exhibit that is constantly evolving. scraps of drawings, various photographs, corny magnetic poetry-- it's all there. just like so many refrigerator doors all over the world. these photobooth strips, the photo of me dancing, the randomly placed words ('pink delirious wind' being my favorite), the ava drawings-- items that made (make) me happy every single day. this weekend, I will be working on a new refrigerator door exhibit. look for it to make tremendous waves in the art world.
moremoremore from my photobooth friday girls:
the whole self