Dreaming of space
No need for stars,
for moons,
for endless empty expanses
to
titillate
my imagination.
I just need
about 1,500 square feet
planted firmly
in my dreams
to walk in peace, blindfolded
without tripping
over my own bullshit.
Our home is:
Small
Cozy
Packed
Tight
with:
Books.
Clothes.
Tools.
Art.
Music.
Sentimentality.
and sometimes I:
drown
in
it
all.
860 square feet of
loved and useful burdens.
Sailor and I both
come from homes
where hoarding
is a happy hobby.
Get it.
Store it.
Use it
If:
It can ever be found again.
There is no escape
from me.
I felt a surge of recognition
when I saw Leslie Knope's house
on Parks & Rec
I've lived in places
where everything I owned - fit.
Not crowded into towering piles
but organized
and separated
and available to use.
Stacks of books,
a cooler,
a tuba,
molecular models,
a single roller skate,
a dead plant in its pot,
all delicately balanced
into an annoyingly uncleanable
pile of life.
A friend -
an artist -
Once made a 7 foot tall mushroom cloud
of stuff.
Parted-out bikes,
a weight set,
broken appliances,
clothes,
a hula hoop,
dishes,
books,
plastic tubs,
cardboard boxes,
frayed hoses,
a power strip,
VHS tapes,
power tools....
If you looked in... everything was in there.
Tea sets.
Blankets.
Art prints.
Hand Tools.
Part of a trombone.
A guitar case with a missing latch.
Filing cabinets.
A crock pot.
Bread pans.
A broken desk.
He called it
"In My Garage"
He did a two-day performance series in
"In My Garage"
accompanied by two friends,
and two live geese
in 250 square feet of art gallery space.
They spent two days,
inviting guests/patrons in to watch them
not talking,
and just... doing stuff
with all the
.... stuff.
It was called
"Leisure Time in Ontological Context".
They'd repair items.
Throw items away.
Organize.
Disorganize.
Cook.
Eat.
Clean dishes.
Practice instruments.
Hang out with the geese.
Spend time with each other.
Contemplate objects.
Rearrange.
Dust.
Play.
Quietly...
being alive -
at a leisurely pace.
In my own - living version
of In My Garage
in 860 square feet
alongside Sailor
and amongst
our assorted
disparate
passions.....
it can feel like madness
to swim leisurely
down the paths
between the to-do piles.
I don't honestly know what to do with it all,
however.
Either move to (or build) a house twice as big
to accommodate our mutual life-stuff
OR
and
And it is surprising
how quickly my heart leaps
between these two non-solutions
sometimes.
for moons,
for endless empty expanses
to
titillate
my imagination.
I just need
about 1,500 square feet
planted firmly
in my dreams
to walk in peace, blindfolded
without tripping
over my own bullshit.
Our home is:
Small
Cozy
Packed
Tight
with:
Books.
Clothes.
Tools.
Art.
Music.
Sentimentality.
and sometimes I:
drown
in
it
all.
860 square feet of
loved and useful burdens.
Sailor and I both
come from homes
where hoarding
is a happy hobby.
Get it.
Store it.
Use it
If:
It can ever be found again.
There is no escape
from me.
I felt a surge of recognition
when I saw Leslie Knope's house
on Parks & Rec
I've lived in places
where everything I owned - fit.
Not crowded into towering piles
but organized
and separated
and available to use.
Stacks of books,
a cooler,
a tuba,
molecular models,
a single roller skate,
a dead plant in its pot,
all delicately balanced
into an annoyingly uncleanable
pile of life.
A friend -
an artist -
Once made a 7 foot tall mushroom cloud
of stuff.
Parted-out bikes,
a weight set,
broken appliances,
clothes,
a hula hoop,
dishes,
books,
plastic tubs,
cardboard boxes,
frayed hoses,
a power strip,
VHS tapes,
power tools....
If you looked in... everything was in there.
Tea sets.
Blankets.
Art prints.
Hand Tools.
Part of a trombone.
A guitar case with a missing latch.
Filing cabinets.
A crock pot.
Bread pans.
A broken desk.
He called it
"In My Garage"
He did a two-day performance series in
"In My Garage"
accompanied by two friends,
and two live geese
in 250 square feet of art gallery space.
They spent two days,
inviting guests/patrons in to watch them
not talking,
and just... doing stuff
with all the
.... stuff.
It was called
"Leisure Time in Ontological Context".
They'd repair items.
Throw items away.
Organize.
Disorganize.
Cook.
Eat.
Clean dishes.
Practice instruments.
Hang out with the geese.
Spend time with each other.
Contemplate objects.
Rearrange.
Dust.
Play.
Quietly...
being alive -
at a leisurely pace.
In my own - living version
of In My Garage
in 860 square feet
alongside Sailor
and amongst
our assorted
disparate
passions.....
it can feel like madness
to swim leisurely
down the paths
between the to-do piles.
I don't honestly know what to do with it all,
however.
Either move to (or build) a house twice as big
to accommodate our mutual life-stuff
OR
and
And it is surprising
how quickly my heart leaps
between these two non-solutions
sometimes.