Sometimes you gotta clean up
Have you ever walked into your room and, suddenly, saw things under a different light? Almost as if you finally gained the power to think like another person, with a different mentality. That's the interesting thing: some people may see those small specs of dust and breathe in the warm sunlight and write the novel of the Century, or notice the way colours combine and create something extraordinry, but not me! I saw my room with the eyes of my mother.
Wakey Wakey, eggs and responsibilities! This room is a mess, what if people were to walk in there? There's barely any room for me to walk around. That's a chair not a walk-around closet!
I gotta clean up.
Nay
I feel the need to re-organise things.
Some people like to clean and to actually see shiny surfaces and no dust around. I acknowledge the dust as part of life in the pure spirit of 'memento mori'.
Remember we all have to die.
Which is the same way I motivate the splotches on the wall from killing mosquitos.
When I " clean my room" I basically just move things from one place to another. That's my secret and magical power of tidying up.
Move along Marie Kondo, we got a new guru in town.
Now, before you think I'm sloppy: I do remove dust from both the location I am moving things from, and the location I am moving things to. Very accurate, I know. It's a gift.
And, eventually, some of the things even get thrown away in the midst of my spring cleaning, they really do!
I like the word midst, it conveys a 'lost in a foggy forest' vibe which I feel resembles most of my life.
Anyway, I am tackling the left corner next to my desk when I find a bag that I really cared about. It's a huge pink paper bag from the David Bowie exhibition in Melbourne, circa December 2015. I bought a pin at the museum and asked for the biggest shopping bag because it looked awesome with the white lighting bolt in the centre.
So I kept it.
For the past years that bag has been there for me. Padded letters with spotless stamps that I could re-use to send amusing novelty gadgets to my friends? In the bag. A folder that I will surely fill eventually? In the bag. A designer box that contained a present? In the bag.
Would you like to know what else I found in the bag? A collection of shopping bags, all carefully folded and containing nothing but memories. Before you suggest to use them for our garbage bins, let me explain how these are not 'that kind' of shopping bags.
What would a normal tidying person do? Throw them away, or put them in a place where they can be forgotten for other four years. I did neither. I moved the bag of bags from the left cornet of my desk directly to the right side of my closet.
Magic!
Jokes aside, I am a hundred percent sure I have a bag of bags in Italy as well from when I started collecting shopping bags in Japan! This is a chronic case of shopping bag hoarding.
Let's be realistic here, there is no way I can use a pink shopping bag with some japanese niche name printed on top for any other reason than to wrap and protect Japanese pre-loved clothes while sending them to a new home.
Yet I am unable to gather my paper or plastic shopping bags and throw them away. That's it. I am a hoarder.
Wakey wakey, eggs and hoarding!
Image: via
Wakey Wakey, eggs and responsibilities! This room is a mess, what if people were to walk in there? There's barely any room for me to walk around. That's a chair not a walk-around closet!
I gotta clean up.
Nay
I feel the need to re-organise things.
Some people like to clean and to actually see shiny surfaces and no dust around. I acknowledge the dust as part of life in the pure spirit of 'memento mori'.
Remember we all have to die.
Which is the same way I motivate the splotches on the wall from killing mosquitos.
When I " clean my room" I basically just move things from one place to another. That's my secret and magical power of tidying up.
Move along Marie Kondo, we got a new guru in town.
Now, before you think I'm sloppy: I do remove dust from both the location I am moving things from, and the location I am moving things to. Very accurate, I know. It's a gift.
And, eventually, some of the things even get thrown away in the midst of my spring cleaning, they really do!
I like the word midst, it conveys a 'lost in a foggy forest' vibe which I feel resembles most of my life.
Anyway, I am tackling the left corner next to my desk when I find a bag that I really cared about. It's a huge pink paper bag from the David Bowie exhibition in Melbourne, circa December 2015. I bought a pin at the museum and asked for the biggest shopping bag because it looked awesome with the white lighting bolt in the centre.
So I kept it.
For the past years that bag has been there for me. Padded letters with spotless stamps that I could re-use to send amusing novelty gadgets to my friends? In the bag. A folder that I will surely fill eventually? In the bag. A designer box that contained a present? In the bag.
Would you like to know what else I found in the bag? A collection of shopping bags, all carefully folded and containing nothing but memories. Before you suggest to use them for our garbage bins, let me explain how these are not 'that kind' of shopping bags.
What would a normal tidying person do? Throw them away, or put them in a place where they can be forgotten for other four years. I did neither. I moved the bag of bags from the left cornet of my desk directly to the right side of my closet.
Magic!
Jokes aside, I am a hundred percent sure I have a bag of bags in Italy as well from when I started collecting shopping bags in Japan! This is a chronic case of shopping bag hoarding.
Let's be realistic here, there is no way I can use a pink shopping bag with some japanese niche name printed on top for any other reason than to wrap and protect Japanese pre-loved clothes while sending them to a new home.
Yet I am unable to gather my paper or plastic shopping bags and throw them away. That's it. I am a hoarder.
Wakey wakey, eggs and hoarding!
Image: via
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