It's morning, and I'm tired, but I'm drinking tea and listening to the snow-that's-almost-ice-pellets hitting the window gently, and wrestling with the eternal grocery list. My friend Alicia sorted my beads for me yesterday, and told me that I Don't Need Any More, which is clearly untrue, because I only have a very very large quantity.We have very different attitudes to having Stuff, she noted. She's a minimalist and does it well. I like to have lots. I'm basically trying to recreate the experience of my Dad's workroom- a whole room filled with fascinating things. I like to trawl my fingers through little tubs of sparkly things and decide what to make, and I get itchy if I don't have lots to work with. I'm easily bored, which is bad, but I think of lots of materials as fertile soil. Or maybe as toys. I need a large variety of toys to build really elaborate things, right? Because I've never left the mud pie/doll's dress/ trying to press walnut oil from walnuts with a hammer stage. I just like, fundamentally, mucking about. It's all play.
And I am still ten years old and wanting all the shiny.