The Aftermath.
By this time next week, all the smoke, ash, and lead will be removed from my Pacific Palisades home. In planning this week and what to do with my contaminated items, I’ve arranged with the team to clean and pack the artwork encased in glass, my hard drives, and my NFT Ledger, and to have them sent to me in Brooklyn.
Everything else is being placed on the curb for free rubbish removal by LA County Sanitation. All of my clothing and furniture - save a few pieces we’re keeping to stage the home for selling.
All of the beautiful items I’ve collected, my clothing, Miles first toys, and clothes, are all being taken to the curb. The risk of lead and other contaminants in soft goods is too great to keep with a young child. Some people seem open to the risk; I myself am not. And so each day this week, my heart has grown heavy. The disposal of my past is quite literal.
My library of books, the cost to clean out weighs the value. I’ve collected literature and clothing since high school. The effect of this on my psyche feels enormous. Letting go of the things that served me cause they are now poison. The anker is being lifted, and now I’m adrift.
More than a year later, this fire continues to break my heart, change my life, and tug at my soul. Not all bad, but this moment doesn’t feel good. I’m not sure who to share this with, cause I’m here in Brooklyn rebuilding from afar, and this isn’t a normal thing. So few of us were left with our homes standing, full of ash. So few of us know of the little losses that happen, one after the next, as we rebuild, displaced from our homes. The feeling like I could keep it, go back to it, but then fear the risk. The risk of poison, the risk of another fire, the risk of searching for normal in a community that’s forever changed.