No blue-ribbon photos here today.
These are visual mental notes, taken for my benefit when the time comes to pack the car.
I make no bones about it. I’m a master at maximizing space and making the most effective and efficient use of it. I also excel at creating order from chaos.
Oft have folks praised or marveled at those abilities, expressed in any number of ways, from editing and turning total incoherent crap into a well-structured and -written piece (which I did frequently in Japan) to closets.
I can take everything out of any space — cupboards, refrigerator/freezer, drawers, closet, garage, anything — study it, analyze, discern shapes and sizes and fittings, rearrange, reorder and restructure until the final result is a creation that maximizes the use of available space, is supremely organized and tidy and logical.
I’m the commensurate puzzle solver and architect. And the thing is, I like the process! Enjoy it! Love it! It satisfies my conceptual mind and analytical, logical and spatial brain.
This gift really shines when I move. It’s visible in packing of boxes — what goes into which box, why and how — and packing of the vehicle.
There’s never been, neither will be, a haphazard tossing of things into a box or car trunk. All is assembled with thought; hence when I’m moved and yet unpacked, I can find, or know within a 3-5% statistical margin of error, in which box a desired item is.
In my last interstate move five years ago, that residence had a garage, which afforded the luxury and benefit of trial runs in a safe and secure environment (as well as packing the night before, a luxury I’m missing about now!).
Particularly when working in tight spaces, one box placed this direction or that can spell the difference between a good fit and everything getting in. Or not.
I spent a lot of time shape-shifting those boxes until I struck the perfect symphonic note. That load was primo. A crowning achievement. Perfection.
Now I’m trying to recreate it — from memory!
I recall the basic framework but not the finer details. So a few days ago, in an attempt to recreate the production, I extracted from the closet the bulk of empty boxes for a trial run (mispositioned box is to expose what’s behind):
Rest assured and contrary to that box, I do not own 18 wine glasses!! I own one wine glass. A plastic Halloween skull. With a story
The astute observer will notice that about half the car’s dedicated to music! (those white postal priority boxes, a total of three, not all pictured, in pic 1 contain CDs.)
The box for the beautiful B&W speakers alone consumes half the back!
Which brings me to another of my gifts: foresight. And good sound Boy Scout planning.
Across the miles and through the series of moves, the smartest move I’ve made is to keep the boxes for stereo (and printer)!
It’d be just plain stupid to do otherwise.
Have YOU ever moved and tried to scrounge up a box perfectly sized with fitted protective padding for your valuable electronics?
And I’ve gotten quite creative in storing said boxes too. Cloth-draped nightstand anyone?
Anyhow, it’s lookin’ good that I’ll be able to leave with what I arrived with five years ago: music, journals, files, clothing and, fleshing out the air pockets, small personal items and pillow.
The loaded Subaru: art on wheels.