The Storage Space of Dorian Gray.
I've been cleaning and organizing my apartment and hauling stuff off to Goodwill and throwing things out.
Will I ever finish that paint-by-numbers zebra I meant to festoon with big red kissy lips? Probably not. Quilting? May get back to that- keep that fabric in holding pattern. Oodles of other craft projects? Nah. Let it go.
I have been sorting through and trying to pare down my sprawling collection of possessions, but owing to living in a relatively small space, keeping some things in storage seems unavoidable. I seem to remember George Carlin talking about stuff. "...if you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't need a house" and "all a house is is a pile of stuff with a cover on it." Got that right.
I cleaned like a fiend on Friday and got the place more tidy than it's been in yonks. There's also much less stuff here, owing to the departure of unstuffed and peed-on furniture, as well as basketloads of clothing that went to Goodwill. Someone might look at my apartment and think I live in a relatively tidy way (I do, actually) and that it never gets nasty in here (clean clutter is the extent of it). But even if someone esle thinks I'm Donna Reed, I know what's in the storage and it weighs on me whether I see it or not. I'm always thinking I've got to do something about all that stuff. I'm ready to be more settled in a slightly larger space (with more studio room) and at that time I want to be done with paying for a storage unit forever. I may not make it, but I call that a worthy goal, anyway.
I've let go of so many objects in the last 6 months which I thought I'd never part with-- even so, why is it so hard to just let the impersonal objects go? I mean, you do have to have a certain amount of stuff to live, but more and more, the bits and bobs mean less and less to me.
They say if you love something, set it free and all that bullcorn.
Well, Friday I tossed away the boomerang sofa. Let's see if it comes back, but I'm not holding my breath-- I don't have room.