Apifera Farm - where art, story, animals & woman merge. Home to artist Katherine Dunn

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©Katherine Dunn.

Friday, April 01, 2016

My comet is moving pretty fast for its size...we let go

As we wait to move, we are about to go into overdrive-packing, tossing, preparing the trailer for the Misfits and the myriad of details that will go with all of it. Somewhere in there I am hoping to sell art and books and Martyn is winding up his client schedule so money, as always, will be tight. But I now have to focus on the task at hand. I'm the ship captain. Martyn will do anything he is asked but he is not a big picture guy when it comes to moving. 'Nuf said.

Yesterday was a turning point in letting go. I was able to make arrangements with both my equine hauler, and the small barn where the equines will land, and spend 2-3 weeks as we get to Maine after them. It was a huge relief to find someone that I trust and like for both of those things. It was also a reckoning with the fact time is going by and we are really leaving. I want to leave. In fact if I could go tomorrow I would. It is a time of excitement, tension and sadness. All goodbyes are like that. But when I looked at my calender and saw the date the hauler would pick up the equines, and I thought about that day, I got overwhelmed, and I immediately knew we had to leave as soon as we could after them. So I ordered the moving van to arrive that week, and I could see on the calender when we'd all be together again.

Yesterday, I felt everything around me just sort of letting go, even Old barn as I looked at her, and I in turn felt I let go. Things that seemed to have meaning to me here, are less important today. The signs hanging all over the farm that brought so many such joy-like "Watch For Cats Falling From Trees' in the front drive-they won't have meaning now in Maine, or here even. I gave them meaning. I pondered last week about taking them or leaving them. As an artist and writer, they were part of my living story here, and if I brought them to Maine they would be like props on a fake farm. There will be new signs to make in Maine.

I suppose my friends and those that follow me here are almost as anxious to see us get out of here as I am. The words and posts here have a dusting of melancholy, I know. But that is the stream I'm in now. It will change.

This month will be busy beyond normal busy. I might not have time to mourn, but I know there will be surges of reality hitting both of us. People are starting to ask if they can come say goodbye, some are good friends, some are just supporters and I think I am going to have to real in the fences and protect myself from too many goodbyes. It's just too draining. I have animals to say goodbye to also in the coming weeks-some hard ones.

But the weather this past week has been a blessing. The sun is always a positive sign in any adventure. It lightens any mind frame for the trip ahead. Imagine the original pilgrims at sea when they saw the dawn each day. I am sitting amongst moments like these in the photos, with the animals, in the place that birthed so many stories, trials and tribulations, happiness, and some sadness. man I learned a lot. My little comet in the sky, to pen a Neil Young song, is travelling pretty fast for its size.

When we get to Maine no creature I've cared for will be buried in that soil. My mother and father never sat in that house-I will not see them in chair by the window as a memory like I do here. It will be refreshing that way–a new beginning within my life journey.