anamnesiac

m. is moving out of the loft due to complicated reasons having to do with the deposit i paid to move in there oh so long ago. he is going to find a little apartment in providence until he finishes his teaching commitments and architect certification thingamajiggy. i am actually happy about this, because the only time i have been back there to visit him was somewhat of a minor trauma. the process of moving my home is like that scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory where mike TV gets transported from one place to another and you can see the particles of his body moving overhead.

the particles of me take a long time to move from one place i have lived to the next, and there are just starting to be more particles of me in my new york apartment than in the providence loft. but just barely. so when i go back to the loft and am surrounded by the walls my mother and i painted, and the hardwood countertops that nice man cut for me, and the green shelves where i kept all of my art supplies with a few stray bits and pieces still left on them, i get very disoriented and think, no, wait, this is my home, and all of the particles reverse and start flowing the other way.