Packing like an artist 🎷💪🏽








How to Move Musical Instruments Without Vomiting or Sacrificing Your Soul

🎻 How to Move Musical Instruments Without Vomiting or Sacrificing Your Soul

So, you’ve decided to move your beloved musical instruments. Excellent. You’ve chosen the path of madness, hernia, and the sound of weeping woodwinds echoing through the void.

Welcome to the beautifully grotesque circus that is packing and transporting instruments. You’re about to wrap, stack, and possibly kiss goodbye to pieces of art that cost more than your first car. Let’s make sure they survive. And that you do too. Mostly.

🔧 Step 1: Accept That Your Instruments Are Alive (And Probably Judging You)

Every guitar remembers every drop of sweat from every gig. Every cello hums when you lie. That oboe? It’s seen things. Moving them is not just logistics—it’s emotional exorcism with bubble wrap.

So light a candle. Burn sage. Sacrifice an out-of-tune recorder. The process has begun.

🎸 Step 2: Guitars & Basses – Long Necks, Sharp Memories

  • Loosen the strings: Tight strings are like overcooked spaghetti—snappy and dangerous. Loosen them before one slaps you across the face like a vengeful ghost.
  • Use a hard case or make one with your own ribcage: If no case, wrap it in layers—towels, bubble wrap, old shirts, your ex’s hoodie—until it looks like a sad, mummified swan.
  • Add padding inside the case: Socks. Crumpled dreams. That plush toy that always stares. Stuff it all in.

🥁 Step 3: Drums – Hollow, Heavy, and Screaming for Space

  • Remove every piece: Cymbals, pedals, stands, regrets—take it apart. Each drum is its own beast and must be tamed alone.
  • Wrap in foam or old towels: Preferably not the ones with mysterious stains, but hey, survival is messy.
  • Stuff the inside: Put smaller drums inside bigger ones. Add socks, T-shirts, or emotional baggage. They’ll feel right at home.
  • Mark the box: Not just “Fragile.” Write something that makes the movers scared. “Contains Skin-Eating Cymbals” usually does the trick.

🎻 Step 4: Violins & Violas – Delicate, Expensive, and Slightly Snobby

  • Loosen the strings and bow hair: Or else they’ll snap like a Victorian ghost in a thunderstorm.
  • Pack them like royalty: Wrap them like you’re sending them into space. Or to meet their in-laws.
  • Wrap the bow separately: Never shove it under the violin like a barbarian. Treat it like a cursed wand—it probably is.

🎷 Step 5: Brass & Woodwinds – Shiny Tubes of Vengeance

  • Empty the spit valves: Please. No one wants a puddle of decade-old saxophone drool leaking into the moving truck. The smell alone could awaken something unspeakable.
  • Disassemble carefully: Not like a toddler on sugar. Slow, deliberate, like you’re defusing a bomb made of brass and shame.
  • Pack in their original cases or coffin-like boxes: And add padding. No one wants a dented trombone that sounds like a dying goose.

🧼 Step 6: General Advice from the Depths of Common Sense

  • Label everything clearly: Unless you like the idea of the French horn being mistaken for a kitchen bowl.
  • Don’t cram instruments with furniture: Your vintage clarinet doesn’t want to cuddle with your IKEA desk lamp.
  • Use padding with dignity: Bubble wrap, soft cloths, even toilet paper mummies. But never raw meat. That’s for emergencies only.
  • Temperature matters: Don’t leave your violin in a truck overnight unless you want it to wake up warped and whispering in German.

🤑 Step 7: Saving Money (Without Using Cat Litter as Padding)

  • Repurpose old clothes: That shirt with the ketchup stain? Destiny.
  • Borrow gear from fellow musicians: They get it. They’ve cried over snapped reeds too.
  • Move instruments in your own vehicle: It smells weird, sure, but at least you control your own fate.
  • Use foam noodles as spacers: Or pool noodles. Or uncooked pasta. Okay, maybe not pasta.

🚛 Step 8: Moving Day – Welcome to the March of the Horrors

Load instruments last. Strap them tight. Give them each a kiss (optional but recommended).

If your cousin sets his pizza box on your amp, remove him from the family. Blood is not thicker than amp grease.

🫠 Step 9: After the Move – The Great Unpacking

Unpack instruments first. They’ve been in the dark. Alone. Possibly plotting.

Let them sit in their new space and acclimate. Don’t rush the tuning. Don’t demand sound. They remember who stuffed them in a shoebox next to cat litter.

🔮 Should You Hire Professionals?

If your instrument costs more than your sanity, hire professionals. They have gear. They have knowledge. They have a mysterious scar and won’t talk about it.

More importantly, they won’t drop your $12,000 harp down a flight of stairs while humming the Titanic theme song. Hopefully.

💀 Final Notes from the Abyss

Moving musical instruments is a test of will, strength, and the ability to not scream when your ukulele case leaks pineapple-scented despair.

Do it right, and your instruments will thank you—with music. Do it wrong, and they’ll haunt your new home with ghost notes and guilt.

Need more grotesquely helpful advice? Visit MovingHell.com—where packing tape meets panic, and your viola lives to shriek another day.


Written while hallucinating after bubble-wrapping a vibraphone for nine hours straight. © Moving Hell, your favorite fever dream of logistics.


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