Clutter

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1812048,00.html

This is something that I've been thinking about for awhile. I don't know if I could ever truly get into the simplicity movement. I've thought about it. It sounds good. But I think possibly simple might drive me stark staring nuts.

The truth is: I'm a clutter bug. I like clutter. I look at those uber-neat danish modern homes, and I feel the need to take off my socks and throw them on the floor, just to have something to look at. I know there are people who like clean lines and every thing in it's place. Bless them. I can't take it. Clutter says "home" to me. My favorite college textbooks give a little extra height to a lamp. The vase I made in jr. high is still around. Little bits of my life are lying all around my house.

Of course, the danger of clutter is that it can reach the tipping point and become chaos. Or worse, just plain dirty. So the challenge for me would be to become as uncluttered as I could personally stand. Whittle it down. Step away from the edge of chaos. Do I really need the map of the London underground that I used in 1996? Probably not. But I like it. That was a good trip. It would hurt to throw it away. Not a lot. But definitely a little. And I'd feel sad for a minute. But it's the kind of edit I really should bite the bullet and make.

On the other hand, my grandmother's two (not one, count 'em, two!) sets of depression glass dessert bowls take up an enormous amount of space in my tiny kitchen. But I have no intention of getting rid of them. Yes, they're old. No, they aren't worth anything. I just like them. They sit on my shelf and remind me of my grandma. And I use them. They've held dessert. But they've also held shrimp cocktails and hummus and olives and all sorts of other party stuff. The only way they leave my house is through attrition. It is me. I'll break them eventually. But I'll have had a lot of use and joy out of them before then. And, to me, that's just not clutter.