It’s often hard to see yourself accurately reflected in the mirror of life. Sometimes the image that you see reflected there can be more than a little unsettling. What I see in my mirror is somewhat unflattering. And like an alcoholic who needs to admit his/her addiction to alcohol, I have to admit my addiction to fabric and haberdashery. Oh, yes, you heard that RIGHT!
I live amongst mounds of buttons, zips, pins, studs, and thousands of itsy bitsy pieces of fabric that are just big enough to "possibly" make something out of but too small to actually justify collection. I’m a junkie. I collect material, and my stash fills every cupboard (where clothes should hang), every shelf (where linen should be folded), and any available corner in almost every room in my house.
Is this a minimalist trend, I ask myself, or is it the exact opposite?
Looking in that reflective mirror, I do understand that it’s simply a part of my youthful training against waste that has turned me into a fabric hoarder—I can’t throw things away that might—just maybe—come into use. I’m a hoarder! (Geez! Hoarder is such a nasty word, isn’t it?)
On the other hand, hoarding creates unbound clutter. It wastes space. It’s untidy, and it’s wasteful in its own right.
So what the hell am I going to do about it? What?
Options:
Throw it out?
Donate it to a charitable organization?
Live, as is, in the looking glass of calamity?
None of the above choices are easy. To throw it out or donate it would take at least a month of careful sorting because there are "valuable" items interspersed among the clutter. Keeping it is, however, a nightmare.
Logically, I’m going to sort and donate. However, not today. No, not at all. Today, I’m going to sit in the sunshine in my garden and write a post about mirrors, junk, and choices.
Images are mine shot using my iPad