The inevitable day, sad day, of moving out of the house that I grew up in has arrived.
After weeks of sifting through the years of living, we moved my mom to a fab new apartment.
Where would I begin to record what memories I wanted?
Photos would not do it justice, and so, on the morning of the move, I traveled about, drawing here and there, snippets of what, at that particular moment, seemed significant to me.
Here they are. More TK as I move through the tag sale later today.
2 comments:
These are great. My father also did projects, mostly in wood, which he built in the basement...I imagine some are still in place in the house where I grew up...and they are part of another families daily life.
Moving is a biggie...how fantastic to get to record it w/drawings.
Ira, thanks- your family anecdote made me feel better- that though it is huge when it is happening, it happens to us all at one time or another- good to have some simpatico.
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