I had another enjoyable evening painting last night. A slight bit of frustration has started to creep in though. My fall colors are starting to look a little gaudy to me. I think I like a lot of colors but when it comes down to it I guess I like them a little subdued. I started knocking back some of the color last night but didn’t have time to finish – that will be tonight’s task. Otherwise it is nearly done.
That remind me of something else. Recently whilst cleaning the house I was thinking, like I often to, how the house resembles my mind, be it messy or cluttered or clean. I thought, geez I really like a sparse kind of decorating, minimalist and that is something I always strive for yet something in me just causes a lot of clutter. I just like stuff, lots of stuff, lots of books, lots of pieces of different projects and papers and art and jars and bits of nature and all kinds of things. What is one to do?
I was thinking that I needed to change my ‘internal’ house into something more resembling what I wanted, cleaner, more streamlined, more organized. I realized that rather than my real house being a reflection – they were probably just both symptomatic of the same process! The same way I hold onto stuff and give little physical things so much importance is the same way I hold onto memories both good and bad, assigning them so much importance and holding onto them to the death.
After a long hard think, I realized that, in fact, I did NOT prefer a spartan surrounding, NO! If given a choice I would prefer to live in something more like an alchemists lab or wizards library! When I think about it, if I were the last person on earth that is what I would want surrounding me and yet for people coming to visit, I would like the spartan look. Huh, wonder how that disparity came about? That, too, must reflect how I would like to portray myself, that even though I am full of all kinds of clutter I want to shove it all in a closet and only let people see bare walls, vacuumed carpet and spare furniture.
Maybe it isn’t that interesting to y’all, but I thought it was a cool revelation. You know, I have never hung my own art in the house. I don’t know why. It makes me uncomfortable. But I have started to lately and it feels good.
This all started by wondering what was up with those house dreams I keep having.
Anyway, perhaps being more open and honest about myself with people (and myself) will also bleed into my beng more comfortable in my home. But we still need new carpet, graaa!
Also, I realized it wasn’t necessarily clutter, well it is, but a more positive way to see it is tools of my eccentricity and passions in life!