Spring Cleaning: this was to be the weekend for it. We are halfway through the weekend, and I’d say we are more than halfway through the job. In my mind, of course, we were supposed to be a fresh, clean, organized home by this evening. Maki has been attacking his room (including under the bed) in percentages all day…and he says he is 80% there. If only I were so optimistic. He did do his laundry…so he’s ahead of me there.
I will say I FINALLY put all the pictures on the wall…at least for now. There will always be more pictures than wall space for an artist….but for the last three months, the living room walls have been screaming at me every time I enter the house: ” HELLOOOO! UNFINISHED BUSINESS HERE!” Apparently these walls CAN talk.
I did manage to file last years taxes (with help) this week. This is the first year I can remember finishing before the April 15 due-date, and I must say I am feeling quite accomplished. A heavy, if imaginary, cloud has dissipated for another year. Big breath and big sigh!
If shuffling through last years bank statements didn’t bring up enough mixed-emotions and memories, trying to organize our current paperwork helped things along. In a weird twist of timing, my parents found an old filing box of mine in their garage last week. How perfect! I have way too many piles of papers, letters, and bills around the place that need a home. So today was the day to replace the old files with new.
What a surreal experience, This filing box must have last been used 9 or 10 years ago, before I moved to England. I THINK it’s okay to throw out the old now. But what was strange to me was changing the little filing labels. 10 years ago, this box was filled things like Inspiration, Therapy Notes, Workshops, Mural Work, Painting Jobs. I
Granted, Bills to Pay/Paid, Taxes, Banking, Receipts didn’t need a change of label, but I had to write a few new ones: Medi-cal/Medi-care, Vernon’s Accident, Hospitals, Legal, etc, I also added sections for the children, who certainly weren’t part of this box or my awareness 10 years ago.
I won’t dwell, but I will say that being an imbalanced person (toward the right side of the brain) this kind of organizing doesn’t come without some emotional leveling, Some tears were shed.
My friend Pat, whom I recently reconnected with after many years, said something that has stuck with me. We were discussing how much we’d changed since Art School. “I’ve been 17 different people since then!” she said.
It’s true. That was like 20 years ago. So I think its okay to have changed lives about once a year. Traumatic experiences probably grant you a couple more changes in that time.
The great irony for me is that in the same week that I took out the ‘murals’ section of my filing box…I’d actually finished the mural I’ve been slowing working on in the past month. Here is glimpse of that. Shelves and furniture should be against that wall by the next viewing.
Anyway…it makes me wonder. Does everyone change as much as I do? Is it a state as mind or a matter of circumstance? Who knows?
Even if we don’t have answers, we have markers.