Night Trees, 2015, Archival Digital Print

There’s little to say about moving other than the hellish disruption that it is. Travel is different. There is only a suitcase, maybe a laptop and a few essentials, and the rest of your life stays safe and in place at home during your jaunt. In a move, everything goes. Since I did this ten months ago, I should be better at it, but I’m not. Instead I count the lost studio hours in the pack/unpack/put away of it.  I wore the same pair of platform sandals for three weeks. Last night I found my shoes. I would need to move many times before I remembered everything. Today the internet was set up and it is so slow in comparison to my quick silver Shenandoah Connection it feels like dialup.  I expect to hear a modem screaming and buzzing. Connectivity in the upper Hudson Valley I’m told is some of the worst in the nation. It isn’t in the carriers’ profit plan to bother. But the land here is beautiful, my house accommodates my needs for the year and I can get to campus in Brooklyn.  It’s good to be home again.