the realization

i realize i have been remiss in keeping this place updated. it's not for lack of things to say, mind you, but more of a lack of what i fear is the ability to say them in "the right way." oh well. i have never been one to concern myself with the pinky-out, yes dahling, cross your legs this way, this is how a real lady acts, we don't say those things way of thinking. so.....
i am sitting here in one of the upstairs bedrooms with the windows open listening to the birds. trying to remain calm. it is a warm and beautiful clear blue day. around me are boxes and boxes and clear plastic tubs full of what used to be my studio. chairs are placed in random spaces wherever i could find room to put them. the folding tables are in the garage. there are lamps on every flat surface in this room, moved from "in there". if my son, bless his heart, should decide to come here for a visit on the fly, i would be able to clear a path to his bed and the closet, but not much else. my plants have been relegated to the porch, my grandmother's sewing machine is under the window in a corner of this room, mine is on the dining room table. the dining room is home to several plastic tubs with fabric and thread and ribbons. the jewelry-making goodies are in boxes....somewhere.....and the knitting is in the living room. my colored bottles wrapped with copper wire and beads that sparkled in the sun on windowsills are now wrapped in tissue paper, carefully placed in a plastic tub, and stacked alongside the tub that holds all the makings for my christmas ornaments. there are assorted fabric totes with projects in various stages of completion in the living room so i can get to them easily. there are plastic tubs stacked 3 and 4 high, 2 deep in the downstairs bedroom.
why? because i have packed up my craft studio...lock, stock and barrel.
why? because the room i was once allowed to use is now going to be occupied and i have been told to pack up my workspace and move it elsewhere...wherever elsewhere is. i was neither consulted in that decision nor was what i do in that room given any consideration....and no consideration was given to what i would do instead.
so what does that mean for me? and my work? what am i to do with it...where am i to go? all questions i asked of him-who-lives-here.
the response? box it up and put it away. as if i am no longer to work with my hands. as if it is not necessary for me to create the things i love to create. as if it isn't important at all. as if everything i ever wanted to make or do is now to be boxed up and hidden from view. i might as well have crawled in one of those boxes myself.
i feel lost...as if i am wandering around in a foreign land with no clue where to go to find my way out. i walk into the now empty and barren bedroom and just stare at it...looking to see if i left something behind, perhaps...some part of me there that might be discovered. why am i afraid that would be a bad thing? why do i think i might be embarrassed if a small part of me in the form of a stray bead or errant piece of ribbon was found? how did i allow this to happen? WHY did i allow it to happen? and now that i realize this....oh forevermore, what am i going to do about it?
as i sit here and re-read this, i repeat that last question to myself again and again. what am i going to do about it? and i realize this: as long as i continue to pretend it's ok, as long as i continue to tolerate it, as long as i make no fuss over it and keep quiet, there will be no change...no reason for change. and with that, perhaps, comes the answer.