Empty Drawers

When we bought our house seven years ago, we moved from a 840sf apartment into 1200sf. We gained two rooms, three closets, a garage and an attic. The kitchen was about three times the size of the phone booth we'd had before. There was also a built in buffet in the dining room and a linen closet. Needless to say, the new space practically echoed once we moved in.

As is the way of Western culture, however, we rapidly began to fill up every possible inch of storage. Possessions multiplied, proving once again that nature abhors a vacuum.

I have always been the kinda gal who likes to organize. I love creating "systems". I've just never been that stellar at maintaining them. I would look at a shelter magazine and my eye would nearly always be drawn to the interiors with clean lines and simple decorations. I was inspired by what I dubbed "Euro-Shaker" design but didn't have what it took to acheive it or to maintain my terribly creative organizational systems. I kept wondering how I could be charmed by a more Zen-like approach to home decor and still have stuff billowing out everywhere. I yearned for simplicity but even though I always had donations when the blind/retarded/veterans called to say they'd have a truck on my street, I couldn't seem to get ahead of the "stuff". Think "The Trouble with Tribbles".

Two years ago a friend introduced me to FLYLady (www.flylady.net). At first glance I didn't relate. The website seemed to be geared to those people who can't negotiate through their house for all the stacks of newspapers. My house, though seldom mopped or dusted, is always tidy. Besides, we entertain all the time which necessarily gets the bathroom cleaned up. My struggles with clutter weren't that bad. But after a little more reading I decided to give it a whirl.

As the months go by I'll have plenty to say about the power of FLYLady's method but here's the thing for today: as I started "flinging" my clutter, I stated the simple goal of having more storage than I needed, symbolized by at least one empty drawer or shelf in every room.
A corrollary goal is that those spaces with limited storage capacity, such as the bathroom, will be kept pared to essentials, thus creating the illusion of space. I am nearly there.

William Morris, leader of the Arts and Crafts movement, stated his design philosophy this way: "Have nothing in your home which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful". Some objects are both useful and beautiful, like my Kitchen Aid can opener. But ocassionally I need to stop and contemplate the objects in my home. What do they say? Have they been around so long that I no longer see them? And if I don't notice them, is it because they no longer speak to me? I would like to think that every object in my home has a story and it is that story, as well as it's beauty, which justifies it's existence.

Things you will never find in my home:

crocheted bath tissue cover
painting of dogs playing poker
"Precious Moments" anything
Elvis memorabilia
green plastic kitchen canisters

Things you will find:
a chicken cookie jar
representations of the Eiffel Tower
a jar of rocks, shells, soil and foreign coins from various travels
baseballs autographed by people who no longer play for the Mariners

Which is to say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But we can all probably let go of a little more stuff.