Flaking… and ensuing guilt

My “studio” space

As usual, I’ve taken on more than I should in the manic sort of way that I have, and now I’m juggling so many balls that I don’t know how I’ll manage to keep them all in the air. I haven’t figured out what this drive to commit myself to things is all about. It seems much like my relationship to acquiring things is, and I think it is a learned behavior, from having seen my father’s example. He used to stockpile things in our basement (like sugar, flour, salt) “in case of shortage” as a reaction to having to have gone without during his youth. My parents also used to buy things when they were on sale, so that they would save money, so we’d have toilet paper and soap and the like stockpiled along with the other stuff.

This “stockpiling” habit has translated itself in me into an new and *improved* way as well, I suppose. It’s given me the feeling that someday there will be a lack, so I must get as much now as I can so that I will have had enough when there won’t be any more. Perhaps it’s in my genes, dating all the way back to prehistory, when that was the way of life for all our forebearers. In any case, if affects how I handle money and also every other thing relating to possessions. I buy stuff I don’t necessarily need so that I have it if/when it becomes necessary (and I don’t necessarily buy the stuff on sale, so it’s not for a cost savings). Sometimes it never becomes necessary. Art supplies are dealt with in much the same manner. If I see something that I think I’ll end up using at some point in time in my art, I buy it and stash it. Of course, by the time it might actually become useful, I’ve forgotten that I have it, or worst, I don’t know where I’ve stashed it.

It’s time to do some major clearing out and organizing… in more ways than one. I’m doing it with our finances, and will now do it with my other “stuff.” The storage unit has been rid of, finally, but I still have a garage full of “stuff” I need to look at, as well as a little apartment that is bulging at the seams from being filled with “stuff.” Mostly mine.

Am I the only one who does this … or is this a feminine trait … or an artist’s trait? All I know is that it needs fixing.


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