What?  So, I’m supposed to clean to get out of this miasma.  My house is too small for the items from my four bedroom house and a 1200 square foot art studio.  When I moved in, I had my stacking down to a fine science. Then I was told by the powers that be, to remove the great wall of boxes as it was overwhelming for visitors.

Fuming. Fuming anger.

Why is my house subject to the crazy desires of the visitors?  Well, they seem to have power over custody of children and visitation.  Gosh, how boosting to my ego is it to have visitors who are uncomfortable with volumes of art, supplies and what ever else I chose to keep in MY home.

I will never be Martha Stewart.  I will always be an artist who loves materials, recycles to keep costs down for my art classes, loves books and music and rocks.  Yes, I am she who stops to pick up a beautiful rock.  I don’t care what I look like doing it.  It is a requirement for my sanity.  I also pick up bits of metal.  Part of being a sculptor is finding beauty in the things other non artists call garbage.  I don’t pick up everything. I pick up the items that can be used in future projects. I am a selective collector.

I am not a hoarder.  Let me repeat that.  I am not a hoarder.  Sure, you’re thinking all hoarders say that.  Well guess what?  I know what a hoarder is and I only keep what I know I will use for future projects.  I am an art teacher, a professional artist on hiatus.  Those hoarding shows that shame the participants into throwing things away because they will never use those things that they collect in their lifetime are dream killers.  Many people would like to one day have the time to build furniture, make crafts, build toys, start a resale store.  Throwing away someone else’s hope is heartless.  Everyone can be an artist, but most people had their creativity scared out of them in kindergarten when they got yelled at for coloring outside the lines.  What artist uses borderlines?

I digress.  Now I have to stack things again because the new powers that be would like to not see what I have in my house.  I so need to move far, far away to a farmhouse with a barn or two car garage.

Signed,

The Little Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe

Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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