Comforting Clutter

There is something a little scary in hoarders who become emotionally attached to their things such that they cannot function in the world.  And there is something admirable in people who can discard half or more of their things, to declutter their lives, and feel such relief from it.  I, on the other hand, am somewhere inbetween. 

I don't really care about the TV, the DVD player, the video game systems and whatnot.  I could be rid of all those in a minute, although my man might have a fit if I did.  When we first moved into our own house about three years ago, we did not have enough stuff to fill it, so we went forth and began the process of filling it.  To me it is about making a house a home.  I like to be surrounded by things that either make me feel good when I look at them, are aesthetically pleasing, or have a memory I like to remember encoded within them.

One thing I have noticed is that I do not like bare walls.  I like my walls filled with pictures that appeal to me, sooth me, or pictures that remind me of places I have been.  Ansel Adams was a black and white photographer that did many nature pics, that I love.  While the pictures of places I have been and family anchor me to the memories, because my ability to recall the past is hazy at best.  Pain fixes me in the present and it is difficult to remember all those good times, so pictures encode those memories and bring them to life for me.

If I was ever tempted to be a hoarder it would be with books.  I have one room literally stuffed with them.  I like knowing that right at my fingertips I have worlds available to me, stories I remembered fondly and can escape into again and again.  I do weed them out and donate boxes worth every year.  Those that I will never read again.

Then there are the nicknacks.  The things I bought other places in other times that I again find aesthetically pleasing or envoke a memory.

Yeah, clutter can be good.
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