THINGS

I find the older I get, the more stuff I accumulate, and the harder it is to find a place for it. This is why I have a storage unit chockablock full of crap I haven't missed in over a year! (Although some of it is furniture and things I would use if I had my own place)

At work, I've been making an attempt to organize everything. I've also been making the attempt to accomplish this in my room. I probably wouldn't care so much but when I want to have computer time that is now mandatory room and desk time. Forced upon me because of the tragic death of Lappy. I mourn over it because for the past 6 years I was not restricted. So, now that this restriction is there I want a haven to come home to. Not the tragedy one might call a room. For those of you who know me well, you know that for a solid 7 months in college I slept in my bedroom a handful of times. Opting instead for the couch. WHY? There was no room to get to my bed.

This disorganization has been a constant. Something I attribute to my artisticness. Yes, I realize I just made up a word. Artists are not to be organized creatures. After all, most great art comes out of mistakes and random impulses. This may be why I will never be a "great" artist. I am not whacked out enough. No Andy Warhol here. I make no plans to cut off my ear because of a man (or woman as in Van Gogh's case) and I certainly am no Basquiat.

I must say though the Chaos in my room rarely bothers me. It is a space for me to sleep in and no more. For now though, it must be my studio. Therefore, I need space. And I wish beyond wish I could let go of this sentimental attachment I carry to things. I've settled on taking pictures and trashing the unusable, un-recyclable, ridiculous objects I do not need. I plan on selling some of the things that I think have the possibility of being valuable to someone else.

In other news when it comes to life, I am just plain in LOVE.