My Life Is A Mess

My life is a mess. Not in the sense you may suspect upon reading that comment, I mean that my immediate environment that defines my “life” is a complete mess. No, I am not a hoarder or the hotelier to 50 cats, I am a busy person, a creative person that probably could use a bit more time and the ability to say “no” a bit more often, but in the meantime, I step over and around (which is good for the glutes I might add…..), summiting a pile now and then before conquering another. My messes symbolize success and satisfaction. Allow me to explain….

In the family room are piles of clothing, a laundry basket of stuff, and stacks of books that tell me I have a child home from college for a few brief days. I will suffer his contribution to the foothills in order to enjoy his presence back in the home.

In the dining room (the proverbial staging area for most families) are stacks of paperwork related to an upcoming event that I agreed to chair, a big deal for the students involved, just another activity to me, but I want it to be great for the kids. On the floor are boxes and boxes of food for the students, yet to be sorted and packaged. Behind that are a few items needing thank you notes written and sent, a sign that people cared about me enough to give me gift.

The kitchen cupboards and fridge are disheveled and picked over, a sign that my children have been fending for themselves, having a good time, having friends over, growing up. I don’t have to make snacks or meals anymore during the middle of my day.

The laundry room….well, it never seems to go down, the view just changes every few days. Only the cats get disgruntled about that room as the source of buried treasure lies behind the piles and inside the closet. Digging for buried treasure is a daily event around here. The guy who invented clumping litter should get a Nobel Prize!

The garage and driveway become the family motor pool. The recycle pile grows higher each day. Bedrooms and bathrooms are disheveled at best, but will get a nice makeover when their occupants return to other locations.

My office and studio have lost contact with open floor space. It may look like the aftermath of a category 5 but I can find anything anybody needs at anytime. No late night runs to the all night store for supplies of any kind. Projects are in various stages of completion or are being prepared for shipment to show or sell .When all is picked-up, it means I have nothing going on.

I have some related family members that get all worked up over messes, everything has to be put away or gotten rid of the second it is no longer needed, used or has been outgrown. I can’t live like that. Fortunately, my husband believes in desktop composting as well. My “stuff” and my space symbolize my success, my love of others, their caring for me, and a certain level of comfort knowing life is happening all around me and I get to be a part of it. The messes will eventually go away perhaps to be replaced by others.

The monster of all messy seasons will soon be upon us. As kids come back home, friends stop by, gifts are exchanged and opened, meals prepared, decorations going up and free time going down, the stuff will pile up yet again. I promise not to look at or comment on yours, if you promise to not trip over mine. Yes, my life is a mess and I am proud of it! I worked hard to get it that way. So how does this relate to art (besides that fact that creative people tend to be messy)? Well….If I were to put it all in a nice white gallery space in some major city, it could be “art”. If I called it a performance piece, I might even get help with the laundry!