We are in the process of decluttering the house. While I try to be relentless it is not in my nature. I am more of a "Well, you never know when you might need a _________" kind of gal. (Be honest. How many times have YOU donated something only to need it the next week? I rest my case.) So, that we have not one but two potato ricers hogging major space in my utensil drawer is typical, I am afraid. Perhaps I could spare one of them. If I have to. I guess.
On the other hand, many AWOL items have been reporting for duty. So what has surfaced from the Land of the Missing?
To begin with, quite a number of prodigal paintings have come home to Mommy. They had been buried in the basement under enormous rolls of aluminum foil and plastic wrap (thank you Costco, for super-sizing and bulk wrapping everything that doesn't move; I wager my stores of baking soda and chicken broth will outlive me). But where is the right half of that prairie sky? Guess I can't call this a diptych any more. If the little rascal shows up in your neighbourhood, please send her home with a scolding. Her sibling misses her.
On the plus side, it turns out that I actually have painted enough for the annual show in April. That's a surprise; here I was just warming up for my usual March melt-down of sheer panic.
All of this is thanks to Jon, bless him, for he is clearing the decks. Fifty seven linear feet of binders have been dislodged from closets and large furniture. This purge has given rise to some serious horse trading. While my optimistic bid for his study - prime real estate thanks to its seven windows - didn't even warrant a counter offer, I did score the top half of an armoire, the entire buffet and a closet. For the first time I actually know where to find my gear. And most of my paintings . And all of them on the same floor!
The re-org might not make me a better painter, but it sure as heck makes me a happier one.
On the other hand, many AWOL items have been reporting for duty. So what has surfaced from the Land of the Missing?
To begin with, quite a number of prodigal paintings have come home to Mommy. They had been buried in the basement under enormous rolls of aluminum foil and plastic wrap (thank you Costco, for super-sizing and bulk wrapping everything that doesn't move; I wager my stores of baking soda and chicken broth will outlive me). But where is the right half of that prairie sky? Guess I can't call this a diptych any more. If the little rascal shows up in your neighbourhood, please send her home with a scolding. Her sibling misses her.
On the plus side, it turns out that I actually have painted enough for the annual show in April. That's a surprise; here I was just warming up for my usual March melt-down of sheer panic.
All of this is thanks to Jon, bless him, for he is clearing the decks. Fifty seven linear feet of binders have been dislodged from closets and large furniture. This purge has given rise to some serious horse trading. While my optimistic bid for his study - prime real estate thanks to its seven windows - didn't even warrant a counter offer, I did score the top half of an armoire, the entire buffet and a closet. For the first time I actually know where to find my gear. And most of my paintings . And all of them on the same floor!
The re-org might not make me a better painter, but it sure as heck makes me a happier one.
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