clutter

I collect clutter. Mostly paper clutter which I can easily get rid of periodically. But I have other clutter... harder to get rid of stuff.

Books. I have too many books that I personally own. Too many books when I have a lovely library system to rely on. A library system that can provide me with the books I want almost all the time. But I have books anyway. Some I love. I love all the Anne Lamott essay books. I do not regret any Mary Oliver or Joy Haro poetry book... or Nikki Geovanni. but I am pretty certain I have books I do not need. Books that do not have to make residence in my house.

I have beads too. Lots of beads neatly sorted into boxes. Beads that now have their own little set of drawers. Some of the beads sit in bowls, grouped into lovely masses of color and texture. They are waiting for me... waiting for me to make something of them... and I love their color, their flash.

The yarn stash is probably not legendary. There are people (I have met them) who have scads more yarn than I do... but I suspect they knit faster... or live in cool climates... or make lots of booties to give away. And I just love to play with mixing the yarns and making square things... or rectangular things... and even I really need only one square thing and two or three rectangular things... what do I do with the rest?

And yesterday, I bought a little drop leaf table at a thrift store. It wants to be painted... just like the beads want to be strung and the yarn wants to be woven and the books want to be read and then brought to life with a great shift in consciousness.

And me... what do I want to do? Clean house.