Big Mamma Dilemma

I tried to think about the ramifications of a year without buying and naturally some things got left out. For instance, the Mother of All dilemmas slipped my mind. I knew my artwork was going to be reproduced in a book but I didn't know that I would make the cover! And so I face my first huge problem. I've managed to avoid buying tupperware and alarm clocks and all sorts of things to make my life easier. But can I bring myself to give up this bit of vanity? In a few months we'll know. Bill says that if his work appears in print, damn any compact. Ah, how easy it is to sell your soul to the devil! Hey--is that sulfur I smell?

Studio Time and My Vintage Tango

Last year, in the midst of an intense purging of household "stuff" I thought about filling envelopes and boxes with extras from my art studio and mailing them off to random friends, acquaintances and postcardx strangers. But this is a good year to actually use all the goodies I've been acquiring for the last several calendars. So far I've accomplished multiple projects using only what's squirreled away in my cabinets and drawers, including a series of 35 mini art quilts, 21 4"x4" hand-stamped art prints, several hand-carved stamps, 30 artist papers, 100+ 1" collage squares, atc's, artistamps and a zine! Whew! I don't think I've made a dent in my supplies.

Yet, traveling by my favorite antiques haunt, I felt a tremendous compulsion to stop. I've always gone in, just to browse, in search of no particular item. This is a mondo difficult pleasure to give up. But as far as I can tell it's shopping in its purest form. The acquisition of material goods for no other reason than to own little pretties. A year's moratorium on that kind of shameless pursuit of goods can't do anything but good. That won't stop the sweats that break out within a few yards of every antique shoppe, old schoolhouse full of vintage discards and retro boutique. I admit it. I like stuff that's curious and tells a story. And I'd rather own it than visit it in a museum. I just have to keep reminding myself that it does little, if anything at all, to make my life better. So, another deep breath, and keep on driving. All those antiques have survived this many years--they'll still be there next year if I decide I want them. But I'm hoping that next year's person is new, improved and a world away from shopping fever. A girl can dream.