We recently gave away essentially everything we own. Here’s a brief account of what it was like to give up the the part that was most precious to me.
Good heavens, but where did they all come from?
I have loads of drawings–almost two decades worth of “favorites” that I thought worth saving.
For seventeen years, every time the stack of drawings on my studio desk would build up to around a hundred pages, I would throw away most, but quickly thumb through to keep just “the best ones.”
Sometimes I kept a drawing because I thought I might enjoy the inspiration later.
Other times it was because it held some idea I thought worth making into a finished piece.
Or, I was proud of the skill development represented.
And, of course, my art instructors encouraged me to keep them so that I could observe my progress over time.
It’s a thing we artists do.
In fact, once, when I met with the famous James Christensen, he showed me several shelves full of sketchbooks. They were marvelous.
A tree trunk of drawings
Whatever the impetus, the result was that I had many sacred tubs of scribbles.
Each time I moved apartments I lugged these things around, laughing to myself that they were, in a way, giant tree trunks (paper comes from wood, you know).
The person holding the other end of my 200 lb. tub was usually too busy gasping for air to do more than politely smile at my metaphor.
But, I suppose now I should say, “I had loads of drawings.”
They’re all gone. Continue reading