A new perspective

Since my dad was coming over around a week ago to help me find a car, I knew that it was time for some emergency apartment cleaning. In other words I needed to get the stuff piled up in chairs out of the way so they could be properly used. The place doesn't look that bad, but I'm not proud that the chairs were de facto storage containers. The truth of the matter is that I would toss newspapers, mail, hats, and who knows what else onto the chairs.

I don't have much furniture, so it's a wonder that I haven't used the two small padded rocking(?) chairs that I claimed when my grandmother's house was being cleared out five years ago. I've sat in them from time to time, but for the most part my futon has been sufficient.

Anyway, since my dad's visit I've been using one of the chairs for its intended purpose, which means (obviously) that I'm sitting in a different spot in the room. It's not a drastic shift, but it gives me a different experience in this space. I wouldn't call it transformative, exactly, but this relatively unfamiliar perspective in a place where I've lived more than two years gives me a new appreciation for the room.

Similarly, driving a different car, which sits higher and gives me a new (read: better) view, freshens up the same routes I take to the places I need to go.

I suspect that oftentimes it's minor changes--small adjustments--that provide all the relief necessary to break from the routine. While a sledgehammer may be needed for big alterations, I'm betting a carving chisel is best suited for the kinds of adaptations to keep things interesting.