I feel a bit like time has stopped since sometime last week. Instead of moving with the rest of the world I feel like I am on a different track of time. I can hear the cars and trucks go by and they seem distant and far away, the hustle and bustle of the world outside seems odd and disjointed to my quiet little two-bedroom apartment we just moved into. I can see a Ponderosa from the studio window. My husband and I share the space, his deep wood Asian style desk on one wall my sage green old school house desk on another. It is a cozy space that I can see we will spend hours in together working on various projects. For now it is still a puzzles of boxes. Our whole apartment is a myriad of unfinished projects, piles of books, bags and shoes strewn around waiting still for homes to be assigned. It is coming along though, this little space of ours, box by box we are putting things in their place. Slowly it resembles a home, a little square of space that is ours, at least for now and I am grateful for this space.