Workout schmerkout

Working out has become something I only dream about having time to do. Recently, I've had to change quite a few things in my life, and I haven't been able to really sit down and "work on me." But I'm determined to change that. That's really what this blog is about, anyway. Changing the things you don't like and making happen what you want to happen in your life.

As for my current situation, everything (or almost everything) has worked out and settled down for now, so I need to get on with doing what needs to be done: cleaning house. I usually do a deep cleaning in the Spring and Fall, and because I have recently found myself in the market for a new living space, I have had the great opportunity to de-clutter and organize my life. Getting rid of things I've kept for one reason or another has been hard, but worthwhile.

Being an artist is hard. Especially being the kind who loves working in many different mediums, like myself. I keep EVERYTHING, for no reason other than "I could use it later." When cleaning out my old room in my parent's house in preparation for the move, I was able to get rid of things I've kept from childhood. Some things I can reuse, such as buttons from the pants I "bedazzled" for my role in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Others, such as the ball bearing from an old desk chair which was going to be used for who-knows-what, went into the proper receptacle. All day long, I was finding stuff in the most random places, and yelling "Why, why, WHY would I keep this?!" It's interesting to note that my parents, who only collect books, were chuckling to themselves the whole time. As if they knew that one day I would be doing this exact thing.

The great thing about cleaning out is that if you find something that you loved as a child that you thought had gone the way of lost socks, you have the pleasure of finding it all over again. It's like getting a new present. I am not yet ready to give away my remaining stuffed animals I received when I was in the hospital in 3rd grade, but I am getting to that point (I put them in the give-away pile, but then snatched them out.) I already gave away quite a few a few years back to my church's biannual garage sale, so at least that's something.

It's almost like you have to work yourself up to giving away prized childhood possessions. As if giving away something tangible will erase the intangibility of your youth, or the memories of the time. I'm not saying give everything away. But to grow, you have to leave some things behind.