One of the things that design mags and advertisements have made me think, for some time, is that a lot of people are tempted to / are being encouraged to turn their homes into something like shop windows. I mean, the model rooms we keep being shown look like ... showrooms. It's as though we want to picture ourselves somewhere rather than actually live there, and have the "there" grow gradually out of our living, as an extension of us.

That said, I know that you, comme moi, appreciate intensely genuinely beautiful things, expensive or not, and would be distressed by a purely iconoclastic approach to the way we decorate ourselves or our caves.

quote:

---

It's as though we want to picture ourselves somewhere rather than actually live there, and have the "there" grow gradually out of our living, as an extension of us.

---

I don't like the word "lifestyle." Although it blatantly says "style" (Hello!?) some people nevertheless treat the concept the way you mean "grow gradually out of our living." And so they never really live without noticing how it looks, and comparing it to received standards. They always seem so fidgety, so alone. Yes, alienated.

I think this situation is a perversion of a healthy instinct for self-expression-- self-expression normally supposing a self to express in the first place. It's the cart before the horse.

I had to constantly pause to check my own motivations when I was preparing to buy and renovate a house. I had been dreaming of the kind of home I wanted, and had used a scrapbook approach, cutting pictures from various design mags (I liked the frenzy because it offered variety) that resonnated with my intuition and "must have" values. I wanted a sanctuary, above all, even though it was also my primary work place. Doing this was the best way to fully imagine all the alternatives, to get clear on what I wanted. But what I wanted had already come out of living a long life, of forming a self independently of those magazines. The way I thought of it, I didn't feel enough affinity between my self and the conditions I was living in, and desired to change them to make things "connect" better.

I'm having a real problem with stuff right now. When moved away from Toronto, I got rid of a bunch of stuff that I thought was superfluous (mostly clothes I wasn't wearing or things I couldn't afford to ship, like a bike and a good chair). And now, in my new place, there's a lot less room for the minimal stuff that I did bring with me. And I don't even collect a lot of crap or nicknacks; it's mostly photographs and old journals and books. Stuff that I can't get rid of, even if I thought I wanted to...

But I've got nowhere to put it, so it sits in boxes in the corners of all the rooms in my little house.

And my new roommate is one who collects things and stuff. She's got a couple of boxes yet to unpack of just little ornaments and funny looking, useless things that're supposedly for decoration. I'm sure plenty of them have sentimental value, but not to me.

And, she's always talking about more stuff that we need, like a pretty tin to put the cat food in, or a silver spike to stack toilet paper rolls on...and I tend to feel that stuff like that is, well, just crap, and not necessary, and just an expense--in addition to adding clutter to the house...

I don't like shopping yet stuff just accumulates. I came here 30 years ago with one suitcase and a quarter of it was books. When I last moved in 91 I gave away half my stuff and still had a moving van full of it, so I gave away a whole lot more while unpacking. No I am again at the point where I barely have room in my garage for my byke. I honestly believe that stuff grows all by itself. If the real estate market wasn't so crazy I'd move again just to do a proper clean out.

I think one must just be ruthless, and do a big clean-out, systematically... I know, the stuff just grows. When my mum moved into a small apartment for seniors, I acquired one of her TVs, some pots and pans, etc. Had to limit such acquisitions severely.

quote:

---

I think one must just be ruthless, and do a big clean-out, systematically.

---

Very true. I'd take the advice a step further, and say wait until one day when you stub your toe on some piece of crap you bought on impulse, and let your anger catalyze your resolve to clean house.

My problem with our stuff, and yes, a lot of it is still in boxes, is that I feel I must look at all of it and think about it before I toss it, or file it, or find just the right spot on the shelf for it.

I sometimes wonder whether clearing out all the old stuff isn't just as much an illusion -- ie: it will give me a new, clean self -- as acquiring things is.

Anyway, for now, I try to go box by box. I know that they are things, but they are things that had meaning once, sometimes silly meaning, sometimes more. How can you sort those out, one from the other, quickly?

Im a pack rat with a book acquiring obsession which is becoming surpassed by my cooking gadget and cookbook obsession *sigh*

Although I wonder if it might be possible to do some kind of 'elephant chain' cleaning, wherein I clean your place, you clean Michelle's place, Michelle cleans Audra's place, etc., culminating in someone cleaning my place.

Wasn't that how this thread started out? With the design mags?

I mean, forget the stuff, for a moment. Does it bother you that you are bothered over what colour to paint the walls?

quote:

---

Originally posted by skdadl:
Did you look at each book before you gave it away, Melsky?

---

Yes, I looked at each one, and that is why it took me 1743 and a half hours to do this! Seriously, there is nothing more time consuming than packing books. The library was thrilled to get them.

Keep in mind that yellow makes people happy, blue makes people calm, and green inspired creativity (unless it's so muted and tame that it feels like a hospital...).

quote:

---

Originally posted by Mr. Magoo:
Although I wonder if it might be possible to do some kind of 'elephant chain' cleaning, wherein I clean your place, you clean Michelle's place, Michelle cleans Audra's place, etc., culminating in someone cleaning my place.

---

"Fluffy, 1995-2004, RIP"

"Time Capsule: open in 3004"

"Michelle's stuff"

"Baby Snakes — do not open"

This is how we end up like this!

[ 11 August 2004: Message edited by: Mr. Magoo ]

Does mean the ex cant have any of it

quote:

---

Originally posted by lagatta:
Danke schön, gula! Mile End, or the Plateau? I'm taking a bean salad to a friend's house just south of the viaduct this afternoon.

I think one must just be ruthless, and do a big clean-out, systematically... I know, the stuff just grows. When my mum moved into a small apartment for seniors, I acquired one of her TVs, some pots and pans, etc. Had to limit such acquisitions severely.

When I was over in Europe, living in a residency room at a research institute, I realised how little "stuff" I actually needed and how little I missed it (I missed my cat, and of course my friends, but I miss my European friends when I'm here...). But then, I had access to a lot of books to read.

---

Well I moved to the Mile End but the City decided that it is now the Plateau.

And yes, I spent several years with nothing more than what I could fit on my back and never missed a thing.