Knock, Knock.
Someone's knocking at my door.
"Who is it?" I question... but say nothing.
UPS never knocks, just throws packages on the porch with a thud. It's too early for political canvassing, too late for soliciting to change electric companies, Jehovah Witnesses don't come calling on weekdays, and friends always phone first.
Whoever it is and whatever they want, I pretend no one is home.
Before I can say, "Good, they're gone", another single knock... soft, hesitant, as if made by a child, only someone smaller, more skittish and with a bushy tail.
Why would a squirrel with a green apple shoved in her mouth be knocking on my door? I have no clue, but she's sitting near my feet with her pointy face looking up at me as if to say... "Trick or Treat!"
Perhaps she's paying me a visit as a kind of peace offering for chewing the telephone wires leaving us without service for days. Yes, we still have a landline. Or maybe she's here to apologize for knocking over the bird feeders and spewing sunflower seeds all over the yard.
"All of nature talks to me. If I could just figure out what it was trying to tell me."... lyrics to 'Sharkey's Day' by Laurie Anderson.
No matter, one look at me, and my furry friend is off, no message, just a small green semi-rotten apple left on my doorstep.
Make that 'apples'... plural. I now have a collection of her fruit all over the porch. Thank you very much, but I have my own collection of stuff inside the house.
People are a lot like squirrels... always on the move, always in a hurry, always accumulating stuff we think we need or want. And we bury our possessions, maybe not in the ground, but in boxes, bins, closets, drawers and sometimes storage units. Then, when we've forgotten where we've put our things, in desperation, or because we can or want, we search for new stuff.
Whoever said, "You are what you eat" missed the plate.
"We are what we own" and what we own, sometimes owns us!
I own mostly inexpensive things preferring paper and plastic to diamonds and gold.
Plastic jewelry, toys, even oddities like tags off of bread bags and little hangers from packaged socks. Boxes and boxes that hold paper: books, written material, photocopied articles, personal journals, letters / cards, and scratchy handwritten notes that become cryptic over time... paper and plastic with unlimited potential.
Paul Rand in his book, 'Paul Rand: A Designer's Art', when discussing 'Ideas about Ideas' says, "The artist is a collection of things imaginary or real. He accumulates things with the same enthusiasm that a little boy stuffs his pockets. The scrap heap and the museum are embraced with equal curiosity. He takes snapshots, makes notes, records impressions on tablecloths or newspapers and the backs of envelopes or matchbooks. Why one thing and not another is part of the mystery, but he is omnivorous... Without the harvest of visual experience, he would be unable to cope with the plethora of problems, mundane or otherwise, that confront him in his daily work."
Artist or not, we all long to thrive, not just survive, and the things we own are the substances that define us.
Michael Johansson
If objects could talk, I guess mine might say that I'm practical yet quirky, a pursuant of ideas with a strong desire to transform them.
Which doesn't excuse the pile of clutter surrounding me now.
Anais Nin once said, "When I cannot bear outer pressures anymore, I begin to put order in my belongings... As if unable to organize and control my life, I seek to exert this on the world of objects"... my sentiments exactly.
Thankfully, I am not a hoarder. As much as I love collecting things that may or may not have significance, I also get great pleasure and comfort from creating order from chaos, paring down, and sifting through things I've acquired.
Like this horoscope written by Rob Brezsny, which reads..."Right now your life may seem like a loose tangle of disparate threads. But this is merely an illusion designed by God to rouse your passion to create harmony and unity. The proper response to the scattered vibes, then, is not to mourn but to organize... Don't be a slave to the things you control... Greater personal power will flow to you as a result of the thoughtful surrender... A surprise gift will arrive after you give up a supposed asset you don't really need or use."
Having gained knowledge from this horoscope while in full declutter mode, I shred the paper it's written on and take a break. I decide to get some fresh air and capture my squirrel friend with my camera.
Instead, I find this on the ground at the end of the driveway.
Who loses a bra and doesn't notice it missing?... especially one that's hot pink!
It is a surprise, but hopefully not 'my' surprise for getting rid of a few possessions.
I leave the bra as I find it and a few hours later it's gone.
Perhaps back on some small-breasted woman or lining a sexy squirrel's nest.
Sugar Bush Squirrel
One man's trash is another man's / squirrel's treasure, if we can just figure out where to put it all.
Do you wrestle with clutter or do you have a place for everything and everything in its place?
What sorts of objects do you gravitate towards and what do they say about You?
Here are a few links you might find interesting:
'Recycling in Style', a short video on Michael Johansson here and some of his exterior installations here.
Laurie Anderson's music video 'Sharkey's Day' here.
Sugar Bush: The World's Most Photographed Squirrel here.
'Things Organized Neatly' here.
How Clutter affects you and what you can do about it here.
Squirrel to 'Here and Next'
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Leaf
Leaf who?
Leaf me alone I'm too busy collecting rotten apples.
XOX... Dyan
