the repatriation of onebluegreen
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There are some great things about getting older
I am at Mom's using her printer because I have a laptop but no printer. I was planning to use Inkblot's printer but she could not find her driver software. And I couldn't use her computer or Mom's computer for what I was doing because neither one of them have Publisher. So, there is always one computer problem or another. Not griping. Just saying somehow there always is. I spent the late morning continuing to put away all the little things, like rolls of packing tape, a hot glue gun, stationary, etc., that I didn't know where to put last night before bed. I packed up my winter clothes and labeled them. I took the trash, the books for Inkblot, more things for the Goodwill, and some things for Mom's and headed into town. I disposed of all of that then went to my old studio and went through several more crates. I took the old newspapers, trash, paper and other supplies to my new studio. And I loaned Inkblot ten more crates. I know I am getting somewhere, I really am, but damn it is starting to feel never ending. Inkblot pointed out that I am doing two major cleanings at once -- Jurassic House and my old studio. I hadn't thought about it before but she is right. And before I dropped off my winter clothes and some yarn I don't have room for at Mom's I will go through what I already have in the attic left over from when I graduated law school. I have a very clear eye about what I need to get rid of no matter how useful it looks. I hesitated today only on one thing - a box of wedding memorabilia. Paper from the wedding gifts, cards and the French silk ribbon that was tied around the white tulips I carried. Is it okay if I throw out my wedding box? I called Inkblot from my studio just to get a second opinion. She asked me if the box made me happy or sad. If I liked what I was reminded by when I looked through there. That was what I thought. The answer was no. I carry memories of my wedding. I kept the photos. I don't need other sentimental bits too. Without looking any deeper into the box I threw it out. The good news was while I was at my studio two cards had been left for me. One was another painter in the building who wants to be in one of the vending machine and the other was from the editor the local monthly arts and entertainment newspaper inquiring about the cost of some of my paintings. What I know from all the cleaning I have done this year and last year is how much time it takes to do this. It takes a lot. I will always have to spring clean once a year and god forbid when I move again what a pain that will be but I won't ever spread myself between so many places. I won't ever have so much stuff to store. More and more I am getting better about using up what I have before I buy more. I was never a particularly wasteful person or a hoarder and I wonder if my words sound parsimonious but I don't mean it that way. The notes in my studio today were a good reminder that is where I want to be. Painting. Or lying on the red sofas reading. Or hiking. Or driving on the Parkway. Anything than having to spend weeks sorting through possessions. Tonight after all of the moving of objects I stayed at Inkblot's and worked on the flyer for my next set of classes. I have not been very good about running classes back to back. It is financially important I start doing that. I believe all of this organizing will help me get into a place where that is possible. I have also loaded up on the number of classes I am offering so I can catch up from New York. One of the things I like about working this way in spite of the hassles and challenges rather than at a real job is I marked off class days for my monthly art by night/open studios and for bookgroup and I also did not schedule class on R's birthday in case he is here at the end of July. Inkblot critiqued my flyers and fed me a dinner of Caribbean rice and beans and sweet tea. She'd just downloaded a few money management programs so she made up a budget for me too. It might not sound like it but it was a peaceful evening. When I got to Mom's she tells me my sister came down today for a visit (she lives about 2 hours away). And par for course they got into a fight. My sister is in her mid-forties and she is still bitching about her childhood. I said I didn't know why they had started talking again after the last fight any way. My sister cannot go back and have some other childhood. And my Mom is not going to be able to make my sister accept her adulthood and move on. Honestly I don't know why they bother. They have been fighting like this my whole life. My Mom agreed and I think it made her feel better. I get less stressed about family fights. I cannot change my family and make them a conflict free one but I don't have to feel sorry for them either. It is their fight not mine.
10:13 p.m. - 2003-06-08
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