Thirteen years in this space and I’ve yet to decipher the code that might possibly make my surroundings run like a well-oiled machine. Instead it is cumbersome and cranky and above all, far too cluttered.
And so, year after year, we attempt to declutter, only to find our dents are far too small and the clutter breeds and multiplies, even when we don’t feed it after midnight.
This year, the battle has intensified. This year, I am determined to have a functioning crafting space, and by functioning I mean something that doesn’t involve constant digging through stacks of boxes or clearing crafts off the living room table so that we might have a clean spot to set down a dinner plate.
Of course to do this requires discipline, and the willingness to say goodbye to things I’d want to keep if we had, say, another 500 square feet in this tiny bungalow. Already we’ve taken some 15 plus boxes of books to Powell’s, two to three van loads of miscellaneous crap to Goodwill, an another couple of loads of even crappier crap to the dump. Left to go: costumes, fabric, old clothing, more random crap, and (sadly, possibly) more books.
The good news in all of this: it gets easier. Every time we sort things, every time we take things out of the house, it’s a little less of a challenge. I don’t feel compelled to keep every book I haven’t yet read when I know I can find a copy at the library. I’m no longer attached to every piece of vintage clothing I own – especially the ones I could never wear without first undergoing rib removal surgery. Even items that were gifts – I don’t have to keep them all. It’s not as if the givers will descend on the house en masse and demand to see every tchotchki they’ve given me from 1990 onward.
Still, there’s more to go. Much more. I’m learning now to be a bit more utilitarian. To keep the items that serve a purpose and not worry so much about those that don’t. To make more space in the house for doing rather than storing. To turn this space into one where we can be actively creating whenever and where ever, without the need to buy yet another hammer because the other three are missing, or pile up yet another stack of random boxes because we needed access to a shelf that may or may not contain just the right can of paint, or yard of fabric, or slab of molded clay.
It’s true (I realize now): the clutter of my crafting past is keeping me from my crafting present. Every project these days is an effort of space manipulation and tool location and it shouldn’t be. It takes the joy out and keeps me from my best work.
If I had… no, scratch that…when I have the space to create, the room to breathe a little, I have a strong feeling something exciting and perhaps a bit crazy may come of it. I can’t wait.