“Are you all moved in?” That’s what friends and neighbors have asked on repeat since the day six months ago that my family moved to a new house. Not to brag, but our answer has been yes for ages. Boxes are unpacked, drawers arranged, silverware sorted. Even the cardboard got recycled. We’re not ones to let chaos linger for long.
With one exception. The art. The art has not entirely moved in.
By art I mean family photos, framed prints, a large-scale map purchased at Ikea eight years ago. That map? Stuffed behind the couch for now. Our wall mirror has yet to meet a wall. What artworks are up are only half up, leaned rakishly atop the piano or the fireplace mantel. We cross our fingers that a strong breeze doesn’t wipe the gallery clean.