In A Moving State Of Mind
I think it’s safe to say it’s crunch time now. I’ve got a little more than a hundred hours left here in Pittsburgh, the final details of my arrival in Zürich are very nearly sorted out, and now it’s down to the disposition of individual boxes and the things in them.
Things. It strikes me that if I only owned the things I actually used, the whole act of moving across the ocean would be, aside from the unavoidable bureaucracy, not all that difficult. There's the cliché, of course, that you don't own your things, your things own you, but I'd always sort of taken that as a warning about your more advanced stages of materialism, that if you find yourself rubbing down your Murciélago with a diaper each Sunday morning, you've taken things too far. One of the many things the move to Zürich has taught me so far before it's even happened is that this is not the case. Indeed, your things begin to own you as soon as you assign value to them, regardless of the value they actually hold.
I shall pledge now (and hope not to break said pledge immediately) that I'll remember this feeling every time I'm about to acquire yet more stuff.
And yet... there's still the little whining voice in the back of my head pointing out all the additional photographs I could take more easily by shifting a few hundred dollars of the money I've made selling all my stuff into bringing yet a third camera with me.
