First off, thank you so much, participants and visitors, for the biggest Loomsday. A special thanks to Cally for the spiffy name which made it more chipper.
Yesterday after breakfast I shot my Loomsday shots and decided to tidy the stash room a little because it was mighty hard taking pictures of the three smaller looms, and it felt like a lovely thing to do at the start of the year. I was going to put the silks back into the silk box, except ones I'm using in the near future, and maybe assess how much collage/art stuff I have/want to keep. But then I did something else, (more on this in a minute,) then Skyped with Mom, and it was dinner time.
This morning, I thought I'd check emails and Facebook before breakfast, and was astonished by the number of Loomsday communication. (Again, thanks!) It took about three hours, entering, checking, reading, commenting, etc.; and a bit several times through the day, but we had a late lunch, and I sauntered in there.
Whenever I tidy, I sit in the space and plan before lifting the first item. But this was supposed to be an abbreviated tidying so I was OK to just start, right? Wrong! Instead of putting away the silks, I marched up to the dresser, cleared the top and started wiping it. (I have an automatic bug-killer in the window, which works well but leaves sticky residue, then dust sticks to it.) Though this bit was easy, (soapy water and microfiber mittens,) the magnitude of the job ahead, the dirt, blew me away.
Plus, it's like cleaning a Japanese apartment. The hardest part is to find space to evacuate stuff so I can clean the vacated space. I now have collage/drawing material and the framed work from the drawing exhibition taking up that little extra of space I used to have.
I'm not sure how thoroughly I'm going to tidy this round. I'm not culling books even though I have too much for the space. I'm not washing the walls. I have thought of chucking out all art supplies, but that seemed a little rash. And my yarns have been culled to the point there is nothing I don't like or can't use. But there are some decorations and items intended to inspire that can go. And I don't need to keep all the collage material, surely. I've only got 1,187 days until my 60th birthday.
June 2009 when we reworked my "design room". Card games, tiny picture frames, my high school and university graduation certificates; I thought it'd be a cinch to decide what to keep and what not that winter. But there they sat, the ugly copy paper boxes, until yesterday, staring at my face reminding me of the years I wasted on mild-to-moderate depression and associated indecision. They were tangible representations, the witnesses, to that time.
I vacuumed the boxes every week. A while ago I even went through a couple and gave away some contents, but I every time I tried to tackle the rest, indecision returned like reflex even though I'm not depressed any more. After we cleaned the storage under the stairs last Monday, after we were able to sort the spillovers outside the storage space, I could not believe how the sight of no cardboard boxes lifted my spirits. And I thought I could get rid of the biggest eyesore with Ben's help.
It took us no more than 20 minutes. And I keep walking by to make sure we can still see the corner. Because I used to have flowers and such there at one point, you see. What a sight, that corner.