Friday, May 1, 2009

Impulse Aquisitions

You know... those little bowls full of cheap, nickel-plated rings by the register, fancy air fresheners at Pep Boys, gum packs and magazines at the grocery check out... that kinda cute-ish boy at the bar after last call?
I'm really trying to cut back. A lot. Excess is just, well, so excessive... and all of those little tiny expenses, both financial and psychological, just start to add up until you wonder why you are so completely spent.
So far I've done well in most categories... except I still acquire too much treasure (a.k.a. "one man's trash...") often even for free. The hazards of working for creative people with similar tastes as my own... people trying to get rid of stuff...
The hazards of 50 % sales at the Salvation Army, Oh me oh my.
So now I have an old fashioned alarm clock (you know, the kind with the loud bells) that I just realized doesn't work. So naturally I should take it apart and use it for assemblage fodder. Only the screws are stripped. Oh life lessons!


I've found myself working some very interesting jobs lately, in my work as a freelance studio assistant. Helping a therapist pack to potentially move out of state (or not), and now packing up an entire lifetime of art journals to send to the Smithsonian as the artist has been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. This woman is phenomenal, so open and frank about her situation, and her life. Courageous. She displays an honesty and sense of humor I find really refreshing and rare.

Although I have a reputation of being trustworthy- a reputation I am proud of, something I know I've earned honestly, I notice a distinction between trustworthiness and honesty. I find myself very trustworthy, and loyal, but not completely honest. This irks me. I lie... mostly by omission or just to myself... mostly just little white ones to justify something or to ease some kind of minor discomfort- but I find this kind of dishonesty particularly upsetting to see in myself because it's so cowardly. So meaningless. Sometimes we need to feel- or to let others feel- and experience the kind of discomfort and pain that honesty can bring with it. Sometimes it's necessary. My kind of dishonesty is based on fear and avoidance. I want to be bolder, able to tell it like it is. And maybe, once I cross that bridge, I'll learn to tell it like it is without cringing horribly.