There's something unique about the havoc created by moving house. There's no way to do it without creating a huge mess. I'm always baffled by the bizarre bric-a-brac that crowds the bottom of my drawers after I have boxed up all the more reasonable clothes and utensils. Unidentifiable cables, extra glasses cases, rarely used toiletries. These are the things that reduce me to a glazed stare. "What the hell do I do with this?" And once you move into a new place, things aren't much better. It takes a while to get everything out of boxes and to feel like you are doing more than camping out in your new home.
A friend recently sent me a series of photographs that show the chaos in her new apartment shortly after she moved in, and then the order that she established several months later. I am struck by the contrasting energy captured in the photographs. Muffled versus resonant. Bogged down versus uplifted. Hectic versus serene.
Before (just after the move):
After (several months later):
