I'm still sorting my stuff. It's been more than a month and I would guess that I'm only half way there. Wherever there is. You know. The place where everything has a label and a shelf and a reason for being there in the first place. There.
A friend told me that before she and her husband moved in together she had taken boxes of stuff to the dump without even looking inside to see what was in them. I guess the fact that I'm still thinking about it so many years later means that what she did scared me a little bit.The deeper I get into my own project, the more I envy such a decisive action. What progress have I made, really, by sorting through all the old photos and letters?
Just two more boxes of personal papers wait on my nightstand for sorting. Every photo in every little box gives a little tug on the heart strings and after so many weeks - I find it quite exhausting. There's a part of me that would love to just pick them up and throw them away.
And then there is the art studio. It's difficult to pick up so many half-finished art projects and accept that they will NEVER be completed and can and should go in the trash. It says something about you, artistically speaking, when that happens. Or at least it feels like it does which is maybe the same thing.
All the same, I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The effort in the office made it into a sunny, pleasant spot to work. I want to feel like that all over this house, eventually. And so that is driving me at the moment. Distracting me from so many other worthy tasks - because those tasks might become easier if I can clear my space. But a month is a long time to get distracted - it's time for me to get to work.
And no - that photo isn't of my space. That's from a post on Apartment Therapy called "Organizing with Boxes." Click through to check out other, visually unachievable ideas.