I finally managed to:
a) stop being busy
b) stop being lazy when i’m not being busy
c) co-ordinate my schedule with someone
And so I picked up my other suitcase (with my jumpers and winter clothes that I thought I’d pick up well before it got cold!) from Carshalton Beeches where it was being weekly vacuumed around at my friend Sally’s place. I stayed with her when I visited London this time last year, and again when I first moved here 8 months ago. When I found a place to live, I decided to leave some things behind because it was an incredibly hot day to be lugging suitcases back and forth on trains.
It was almost like Christmas when I brought my things back home on Saturday afternoon.. rummaging through my strange little boxes full of gatherings.. realising I had brought along my video of Basquiat.. books I hadn’t started reading yet along with a few favourites I’d decided I couldn’t move without.. photographs and flyers from the american road trip in july.. random electrical cables..
But perhaps most importantly, my little Japanese stereo and a couple of dozen CDs I’d haphazardly packed when leaving Sydney.
Observation 1:
My laptop usage has dramatically increased in the last 48 hours because I have something else to occasionally focus on, and old tunes to hum along to. Music makes time pass faster and more pleasantly.
Observation 2:
Despite having a stereo in the lounge room, I’ve not bought any CDs in the last 8 months and instead listened to whatever my flatmate has chosen. I’ve heard a lot of music I may not have otherwise heard, and he’s turned out to have quite a few that are my favourites so I’ve listened to them occasionally. But now that I can play music of my choice in my own little space, I’ve started craving my CD collection that’s boxed up in Sydney. The CDs I do have here are prompting memories of sitting late at night on the floor of my flat, looking through CDs and playing DJ to myself.. anything I fancied I’d listen to. Sometimes I might sing along, or dance around the room, or, when feeling particularly comfortable and yet silly, I’d sing the songs in to my dictaphone and laugh at how strange it sounded. I know I’ll survive without my CDs.. and if I really need particular ones I can go and buy them.. but it’s strange to have spent so long, occasionally thinking of them, but not craving them as I do now.