We had a party....the pets are gone

This weekend has been a total roller coaster for me. On the one hand we had a series of fantastic evening events and got to have a lot of fun, and then on the other hand, we sent our pets away to my parents' house for the duration of our trip abroad.My emotions are in overdrive. We tried to watch Bridesmaids tonight to lighten the mood and I honestly broke down into melodramatic sobbing fits half a dozen times. I'm not sure if I can take much more of this "moving" process. Whoa.

Art Party

The last thing I should be doing right now is planning activities for London. I should be packing. Or at least thinking about packing. That would be more productive and probably lead to a smoother move in 18 days, but seriously. London has soooo much going on all the time that I'm having a hard time concentrating....and I'm not even there yet!! My latest happy discovery is that there will be a Damien Hirst retrospective in 2012 at the Tate Modern. Yes, a retrospective for a man who is still on the good side of 50 years old. I could slip back into my visual arts degree days and give you an entire essay, complete with sources on the effects of Hirst in the art world, but let's skip it and look a "For the love of God:"

This is James' photo of the poster for the piece. Yes, we photographed the poster. Why? Because in the 36 hours we were in Florence for our honeymoon this past spring, we happened upon a held-over showing of this incredible show piece and I nearly lost my little mind with excitement. The skull has only been in display three times. We dutifully bought our tickets and, after seeing a very private room in one of the Medici apartments (a prerequisite for having the skull on show in the villa - nice touch, Damien), we were escorted into a dark room with another security guard. 

The room was draped in black velvet and the only light source came from display case, atop a pillar in the center of the room. The skull was, quite literally, the only object you could clearly see in the dark. Guests are allotted three minutes to soak in all the splendor and macabre frivolity before being asked to leave. I do think I spent enough time fawning over it that we were given a few extra seconds to absorb the full experience. We left that room and I was stunned. 

Emerging into the light and the now seemingly dull Medici apartments, I knew I had just had an experience of a lifetime. Now I get to experience it all over again! Annnnnnd, if that wasn't enough, the craftsman that worked with Hirst has also got an exhibit about to open in London featuring his other gemstone works. And that is why I can't focus on packing.

The home stretch

We're 20 days away from our flight and my parents will be here this weekend. Part of their trip is to visit and part of it is to take home a number of our more personal items that we don't want to leave in a storage locker for the next two years. The most precious and dear things they're going to take is actually our pets. I don't want poor Molly and Penny to go through the next couple of weeks with the house in total disarray, so I'm saving them the anxiety by sending them along early. But it's making me get weepy every time I think about them or look at them.

So much quiet

I have wanted to write so badly this past week. But I can't bring myself to put my fingers to the smooth, flat glass and actually make the words come out. After some thought on the subject, I feel that the reason I can't bring myself to write is that with each passing day we come closer to leaving and I don't want to brood on the subject any more than I already am. I'm living my own pattern of excitement and loss in a bizarre tidal wave of emotions. As much as I'd like to spare myself the tedium of reliving each passing day by writing about it, that's what I actually wanted to do when I set out on this blog. So even if it's only a few lines, or an image that conveys my feelings of the day, that's what will happen.