Relaxing Amid the Boxes

We've been in the new house for about three weeks. It seems like a year. With boxes all over and things we use everyday buried somewhere to be found someday. Nevertheless, Newark is a wonder to us and our house is paradise. Harry and I each have offices, there are two living rooms--one a "great room"--a sun room and a deck. The floors are dusty now, the ceiling has holes from drilling for ceiling lights and the attic steps are broken. In a short while though, it will be beautiful. I'd love to plant an evergreen in our backyard, but I don't have the energy. There's too much else to do. I haven't painted yet either but I will soon. In between, I'll be painting walls.
Sometimes I think this is a dream. I'm not really a Delawarian; I'm a Philly woman. And I'll always be from Philly. But it's a relief driving on big highways where drivers usually follow the rules. No more closed and closing stores and driving miles to buy nice food. There are shopping centers at every turn and in between. Everything is at our fingertips and then some. Life is easier.
But would I trade my years in Philly? Probably not especially not my college experience. I wasn't comfortable at the Academy--it's hard to deal with other people--but when I was alone in my studio, it was good. And the feeling I have of the Academy is pride and the joy of creation. For me, there is no Academy without Philly. Also, it means something to have been an artist in Philly.
So now I'm an artist in suburbia. I can't care anymore about exhibiting. I don't even look at the invitations to send work. Ah, well. That's the way it is.