My studio on the last day.
Most of February I spent packing all my worldly possessions that I had stowed away in my studio (more like strewn about my studio), and began cramming them into my tiny car. It was a great many trips to and fro. I would squeeze about six boxes into my car and some loose items and that would make one full load. I would need many hands to count the amount of trips I took.
I'm tired of moving. Reaaally, reaaally tired.
(I'm doing this to myself, aren't I? So I really should quit complaining.)
The final week of moving was sabotaged by bad weather. The day before I was to be fully out of the place, it looked like this:
This is not picturesque, or New England-y.
This is crappadoodle for drivers.
So. Didn't do much art during the month-long move. But, I did work on getting my taxes prepped and ready, took Preston to the dentist (oh how traumatic! for me anyway! listening to a yowling cat in the car while maneuvering snowy, slushy streets), and started on a freelance project (I think there were a few drooling, catatonic states dispersed in there somewhere).
Wait, wait... I did do some art... I finished five drawings.... (see, I can barely remember that I did this, much less when, and how).
Crazy friggin month that February. Hey, at least I made it a full year in the studio (that's longer than the last two places I lived in).