We Americans, humans, hoarders or whatever our category, have too much stuff. This morning’s newspaper named a list of patrons with unpaid rent on storage units whose contents will be going up for auction. I have to question the financial sense of owning so many possessions while being unable to afford the storage.Hi Friends,
This subject piqued my interest because just yesterday I began early Spring-cleaning my house. Essentially, getting rid of items that are unused, unloved, old, ugly, or useless. In an effort to simplify and beautify my life, all unnecessary items will be donated or thrown out. The ideal result would exhibit a zen-like home devoid of any clutter, but I have children so this is a far-fetched fantasy. I treasure my children’s artistic endeavors despite the unwillingness to display them. I can’t dispose of that pile of finger-paintings. I must keep the sculpture that resembles a toilet with legs. I love this pottery thingy that isn’t quite a bowl.
It is a constant battle for me; the quest for beauty and simplicity in my home, and the reality of nurturing lives destined to create. My family’s inclination for music exacerbates the problem. Our piano and surrounding floor is strewn with music books. Guitars, a drum set, amps, a keyboard, microphones, and cords have inhabited the basement for weekly band practice. A flute case rests in walkways and disappears every school morning. Drumsticks and drum books take preferred seating at the bar until I move them to another less-preferred spot.
The resulting noise and art that fills my home is beautiful. I love listening to my children play piano and flute and drums. My husband’s band is like a second family, a very noisy family. We play, we sing, we hug, we laugh. I am a lucky person to accommodate the art of children and the music of life. The trappings of my home are boisterous and beautiful, hideous and lovely. I wouldn’t change this for the world.