packing pieces of china.

hello.

it's been a while. again.


in the one breath, there's so much to say.

and in the next breath, there's not much to say at all.

things are turning in circles.

much like a merry go round.

there is motion

moments of happy glee,

yet the feet don't feel like they are on the ground.


but for now,

just a short update.

work is keeping me busy.

and it's usually late late night until i find my way home.

whatever few hours of the day that i have had for myself,

i spend with friends over a coffee or a glass of wine.


and i still haven't found the home i'm looking for.

have checked out a few more apartments

and some have proven nice.

but there hasn't been one that left me saying,

this is it. this is home. this is where i am.


so i'll continue looking. waiting. hoping.

much like with other things in life.


and when you're the queen of impatience as i am,

the waiting isn't always an easy game.


tonight was one of the first evenings in a long while

that i actually spent at home.

put together some shirts that i hope to drop off at a store tomorrow

took care of a few random emails.

and i don't dare confess how behind i am on those.

and i packed a box.

of old dishes and china. from klaus' mother.

there's not much i'm taking with me from here,

and yet i have the longing and the need to take these

as the remnants of what i'm leaving behind.

maybe in a sense,

because these don't symbolise anything between us.

rather i simply think they're pretty. the vintage.

soft flowers and traces of gold.

numbers stamped on the back of the plates.

but just packing the box

was a symbolism for myself.

and just where i am these days.

learning to focus. learning to let go.

learning to welcome all the new.

and yes, sometimes that means,

packing pieces of old china.

as fragile and precious as they are.


love,

me.