Taking pictures

I have spent a lot of time this weekend taking photos. Our house goes on the market tomorrow. We are going to start out trying to sell it ourselves. This is something we have wanted to try for a long time. We have never sold a house without the assistance of a realtor, but in this instance we are not frantically trying to relocate to a new city, start new jobs, put kids into new schools and all that. Twice in the past we have bought homes directly from the previous owners. These have been the easiest, most pleasant real estate transactions we have experienced. Maybe we'll end up using a realtor this time, but we'll give it a try on our own first.

But I digress. Pictures—that's what I was talking about. I'm putting together a little blog with a couple of slide shows to direct potential buyers to. You are welcome to take a look and let me know what you think. Here. So I am looking at my own house through the eyes of potential buyers. I take my photos, then I look at them on the monitor and I tweak the brightness and contrast and crop out the messy stack of magazines and the jacket hanging on the back of a chair. And it's amazing. I really have never seen my own house like this.

Suddenly I'm nostalgic for this house, even though we are still here. Then I notice those odd things like the chandelier that isn't centered over the table. I've lived with it so long I don't notice it until I see it in a photo. Sometimes I think it is a good thing to move just so you start to see things in a new setting or in a new way—or as they really are. When I packed up things that were cluttering the kitchen countertops I noticed how old and grungy some of them looked. My blender was a wedding present 38 years ago. It works as well as ever, but the glass vessel is cloudy, the "white" plastic casing is yellow. It looks like hell and it's not making the move. But I hadn't really seen it, sitting right under my nose, for years.

When I got to my studio I cleaned up before taking pictures, but not too much. Of all rooms in the house, this is the one that has not been "staged" and pared down and stripped of its personal touches.

I left the birds I made my recently sitting out on my cutting table. Maybe they will hold some charm for the people who come to look at the house. Maybe.

The sign goes up tomorrow. Wish us luck.