I’ve found myself with some extra time alone on my hands. And whereas I am trying to make that “found” time productive, I am trying to balance that with not expanding that infamous “to do” list too far beyond my reach. Reachable, tangible achievable goals.
One of those things on my list was fairly simple, as I’ve mentioned. Hanging artwork is always a chore for me. I think it’s the whole thought of committing, making a decision on the form of a hole in our plaster walls. I’ve skirted that a bit by finding alternative hanging methods and starting in my studio where there is a little less pressure than let’s say, the living room.
Also on my list, yet again, is purging. Cynical and I differ on the opinions of what is an acceptable level of stuff and what is simply too much. I come from a “rainy day” mentality and upbringing. Better save that for a rainy day. Couple that with my strong sense of sentimentality and desire to repurpose and reuse, and well, you could have a problem on your hands.
I balance that with routine purging and reconsideration. There is a bin that sits in our basement where I routinely place items that simply have no use to us. For instance, there may be a sweater that I put on periodically only to take it off again, disgusted with the way it looks or unhappy with the fit. After a few tries, it eventually makes its way into the bin. Clutter that I am neither attached to or doesn’t serve a use also migrates there.
I confess that perhaps more items should show up in the box, but that requires some deep cleaning and some true, blue painful purging. And frankly, that’s a big task. I prefer to take it in small bites, bird by bird if you will.