I hadn't posted anything this last week, because we had so much to do and not enough time to do it. We had about three days to get the new studio in good enough shape for me to move into, so we could fix up the old room in order for our new housemate to move into the old studio room.

It looks so big without all my stuff in it. And the cat is totally WTF…

While on a tight timetable, we hit a snag: the pink fur I selected was out of stock. And because of COVID the company would not be reordering a lot of their stock, so waiting or back ordering wasn't an option. Looking around at other stores, the prices just weren't as good. So I eventually settled on a white fur with fuscia tips. I was concerned that it wouldn't match but it ended up working out just fine.

I decided, what the heck? and painted my monitor stands. It’s a metallic paint color called Venetian Blue.

Before this they were black. And I’m just sick of black and gray. So why not paint it something awesome! I can’t encourage this rebellious behavior enough.

Be a rebel-muffin.

Hug a bass trap! My incredible husband built my bass traps for me! We had 1x4’s on top of underlayment, and a couple of pieces of Rockwool insulation and covered in fur.

There's something about creating or renovating a new space in your house that causes you to scrutinize every thing you put in this space, and why. I don't want to say whether or not it "sparks joy," as the go-to shorthand adopted into our lexicon may suggest, because I found it to be more bland than that. Just, why? Why am I holding on to this? What purpose does it serve?

It is definitely not about joy because to be honest all my garbage sparks joy. My dad kept everything. But it was a pretty stark realization that the mere function of holding onto these things is not about joy, but comfort, and safety. But it’s an illusion. There were and are many things from my past, and I questioned if they are holding me up, or holding me back. Are they propping me up, bolstering who I am, or am I just sitting at the top of a pile of trash?

Trash. Trash is the answer.

Away with ye! Into the bin went a lot of things masquerading as fulfillment, as necessities. So interesting to have so many "things," when the very nature of what I have dedicated my life to creating is ephemeral. Music lasts as long as it lasts until you play, or press play, again.

So I'm mostly in the space now, and just in time for a music prep job this week. I'm still working out some particulars between the space and my schedule, but there is progress!