Today we went to the Tate Modern and what should I discover there but this sculpture! Michelangelo Pistoletto "Venus of the Rags." This sculpture embodies exactly how I feel in the middle of a move - mind you this is #6 in 2 1/2 years (read posts from a year and some ago for the affect of the economic downturn on rental properties in Glasgow). Also, keep in mind that tonight is the second night of drilling against the shared wall with a start-up at 9pm and we will most likely move our hotel room tomorrow. I want the moving pain to end but I think the UK has it in for me. The worst thing about moving is figuring out where to put clothes. The kids grow out of clothes and wear out clothes faster than I can pack, unpack, wash/dry, and find a reasonable spot to put them. I have found whole boxes between moves -forgotten and filled with clean and folded laundry that the kids could have used but have outgrown. I even gave up in the last house and just let the clothes multiply in their child-chosen, mold-growing corners. Even my writing of late feels jumbled and messy - rag-like, if you will. And then, there is G! She who wears everyone's clothes at some point during the day because that is a part of who she is - a random clothes wearer. The best part is that "Venus" was sculpted by day laborers in Italy and the rags were sourced and placed in the mound before her by people Michelangelo hired to create his vision. Even the artist did not sully his hands in creating this masterpiece declaring my inner pain. But I calmed myself as I thought that at least I had the added benefit of exercise with all of this moving and laundry and stuff. But no, apparently not even my post-partum-mid-move-#6 bum looks as good as Venus'. Little M even told me so when I said, "This is exactly how I feel!" and he said, "But you don't look like her..." Then again, maybe Little M was commenting on her vacantly peaceful expression on the other side of this sculpture. Peaceful about the whole affair? I am surely no Venus.
