So Many Things


I’m getting things ready for a fundraiser art sale, and as ever, I keep finding unfinished things, half-formed ideas, bit and bobs that promise to be something one day if given the proper nourishment.

That day may never come, but I live in hope.

It’s the same with stories. I have lots of them waiting for care and sustenance, and I never give up on them even if I should.

Have you heard of that best-selling book on clearing and cleaning out your house? I can’t think of the title, but apparently it talks about the idea that you should keep the things that “spark joy.” This probably works if if your spark fuse is very long. Mine, however, is short and easily lit. I don’t know why. Neither of my parents collected or held on to things. My mother moved all the time and couldn’t. “Do you own it or does it own you?” she’d say.

My dad, even though he’s lived in the same house for over 50 years, isn’t a packrat. If pressed, he could possibly fill one box with things that he’d want to hold onto. My maternal grandmother didn’t like things that required dusting. If an item was going to sit on a shelf, she had to really, really want it.

This is probably the one characteristic that is wholly my own. I love a cabinet of curiosities. Spare and minimal do not know me.

I am not a hoarder. I do throw things and I even clear off my desk from time to time, but I still have folders and drawers of papers I should probably get rid of. Am I really going to use these things?

But I am working on finishing the collections of half-formed art and stories. Though I’ll probably never finish. But how strange it would be to be done with everything.

In other news, I received a rejection yesterday. It was, in fact, a very nice rejection. They said they seriously considered my worked, liked it, gave me specific advice on improving the story, and invited me to submit again! So, not an acceptance, but still promising. I’ll just add the story to the needs-to-be-finished pile of things.

Thanks for reading.

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