Much of my life has stretched along the Hudson River: starting way back in Yonkers, NY, at the far southern tip of Westchester where I was born, to the place my husband and I are moving next, Cohoes, NY. Granted there have been detours, but as a resident of New York State, I’ve nestled in little valley pockets of semi-urbanity, never actually living on the river, but enjoying its proximity. I’m so close to the water now, that if I was a better shot, I could toss a rock from the parking lot and watch it make a thud on the icy floes across the way. If I didn’t hit a duck.
The last two months have been about the move. There’s been no art. None. And I’m beginning to feel the effects of this forced dry spell. There’s been plenty of studio business, and ideas and all that, but for the most part, I’ve been juggling the relocation whirlwind. Think weeks of HGTV, bubble wrap, Craig’s List, Google Map “street-views” and getting lost. (Ever hear of Slingerlands? Nope? Me, neither.) We’ve been in brownstones, town houses, apartments, lofts, places brand new and many that no one should be living in at all. It had to be a rental, affordable and of a location I can find on my own. You are talking to the Queen of No Sense of Direction, remember.
I know the MID Hudson Valley though. I know the back roads, the river towns of Kingston, Beacon, and Newburgh. From Poughkeepsie, I’d get me that window seat on the train, facing the water, now being quite comfortable with the Metro North ride into Grand Central. I can show you where Anthony Bourdain filmed his Travel Channel special. I know where Cold Spring is, I know West Point. I know the neighborhoods and the ride south. Now I’ll be learning the ride north as well.
Our place outside of Albany is a hike from Highland, close to my husband’s company’s new location, but far from what is still my office and studio. So, while the house is on the market, it will be a commuter life, dual locations: computer work in the condo, art making in the country. Still figuring it out, to be honest. Yes, it’s a bit of a logistics challenge. I still don’t know where I put the step ladder and I have rolls of papertowels falling out of the van. Hopefully the crazy will be temporary. The upside gives me the opportunity to say goodbye. And to say hello. All at the same time.
© 2012 Ann Haaland
