I have a silly confession. Okay, I haven't bought tissues for a few years now. I did though have a neighbor who bought me this box of tissues to gift me. I love that she saw in it the colors I used in my home. See, I used to buy this same brand and specific box for my home in Phoenix. I love the color. But, back to this particular box. It is empty. There is one tissue stuck in the top to make it appear full. I haven't thrown it in the recycle bin because I liked the color. Silly me.
Most of my décor has been purged pretty thoroughly. I have some pieces I have packed up and put in the shed, saving them because a friend gave them to me. The friend matters.
What I do have on this shelf is kind of bugging me. The more minimalist my life becomes, the more I am distracted by what used to please my senses.
Case in point, these colorful little pill boxes. I used to view them as eye candy and even collected a bunch of images from Flicker. I do use them for real storage and they are important in that way. It is just indicative of my perceptions changing.
Similarly, I am captivated by the wooden models of the human form. I have written about this before when I created my trash dummy. I have used these forms in my communication for some time. I believe I like the androgynous aspect (and age-less, race-less, etc.). It is funny that the shape, read: not fat, doesn't really seem to enter in to my sense of this figure. Odd that.
My thoughtful human form has appeared in a bunch of my posts. I love this form and how much it conveys through such spare lines.
I think that living in a small space contributes to this asceticism. I have grown more and more at ease with the idea that if I don't use it, I should lose it. Culling through things five years ago and again when I moved to California three years ago has made this process less wrenching and more gratifying. I have found that there are two areas so far where I had to postpone my purging. The music purge /computer disk purge and the hobby/holiday purge. Mostly this postponement is due to my inability to bring the required focus to decision making. The second reason was just wrestling the stuff out to deal with it. Oh, and might I just mention that I never was good at doing highly scheduled tasks. I used to rely on the spirit moving me. Now I seem to have a foot planted in both worlds, habit and heartfelt.
One last observation . . . The park's big yard sale this last weekend turned out to be a success. I am so happy with the colored pencil fence getting a celebration of sorts for the unveiling. I helped with placing ads on Craig's list and writing about the sale in the newsletter, but I told the people who were active in organizing that I don't do yard sales. I absolutely hate them after having plenty in my life. It is painful to me to sit there and know I can't leave. I could never do craft fairs with the leather journals I used to make because of this distaste of being captive. So, I think that the neighbors understood this, but I'm never sure. Whispering is a favored M.O. around here. What I did discover about myself is that it was very uncomfortable to be around piles and piles of stuff. This revulsion was visceral. So, I took a few photos and took off. Very powerful experience for me . . .