I'm behind in my blogging.
I've been working on my New Year's resolution of cleaning up my clutter and getting my shit organized. Hardly worth blogging about but here I am...
The upstairs of my shop (where the public isn't allowed), has been a pretty scary Collyer-Brothers-Syndrome type of place for a couple of years now. That is, until this week, when I finally decided to tackle it.
Some would've looked at the mess and considered me at least borderline-disposophobic (google it), but really I'm quite sure I'm neither that messy nor compulsive.
I just hate waste is all, Is that so wrong?
Today I filled an entire contractor's bag with fabric remnants from my massive collection of extra "stuff". Just a baby step really---but this is indeed challenging, because (if you've read any of my previous blogs), you know I really can make use of some of the most obscure castoffs---eventually. It's kind of beautiful thing when you want to create something and all the materials are just lying around your house (if you can find them...).
Another recent baby step I took was throwing away the bag of hems I'd been collecting from when I hem people's pants in the shop. I had had this fantasy of someday making a big humble quilt made entirely out of Hudsonians' pants' hems. Long dark strips stitched together log-cabin style...it was gonna be so cool ...Then one day a little voice inside me just said "Oh Jesus Get Real, Lisa", and I threw them out. (The fantasy lingers, however).
It is a vicious cycle, though. For every successful purge there is always some sort of counterbalancing event that keeps the boxes piling up. An estate cleanout, or A gluttonous acquisition of cheap, justifiable goods --like recently, with the closing of the Watnot shop (more on this later) .
Sometimes a relapse comes in the discovery a new thing worth hoarding.
A few years ago someone dumped a huge buttload of old ceremonial Oddfellows' costumes on my doorstep. Mostly boring plain muslin robes --but I just couldn't throw them out . I decided to dye them all kinds of RIT dye colors, in hopes of making them more sellable ((and BTW I'm still selling them to this day)). At the time, though, I had no place to put them, and they sat stored in garbage bags in my basement for ages. To make matters worse, I became obsessed with all the fun colored lint that I was harvesting out of my dryer, and I became a lint collector.
Not long into the accumulation of lint I was vindicated, however, when someone was curating a local art exhibit about things that people SAVED.
My big jar of lint sat on a white pedestal in the middle of that gallery and was a huge hit.