It's funny how much the state of my room is indicative of the state of my mind. I really do enjoy a clean space, which may be hard to believe on any random day walking in and seeing two easels set up with art on them -- one floor and one desk easel, along with paints strewn across my desk and the beginnings of ideas in physical form filling my art making space. Then, you look to the floor where storage containers have been opened and left, more ideas that are trying to be worked through but haven't quite made it, remnants of crazed rummaging through old trinkets for inspiration. A laundry basket may sit in the middle of the floor full of clothes -- and sometimes it's hard to remember if they're clean or not. Shoes and clothes may lie haphazardly in piles, indicative of my attempts to purge my wardrobe of unwanted things, and also outfit crafting. Basically, if you walked into my room a few days ago you may have tripped and fallen or at least found it a bit of a maze and a walking disaster -- though it truly looked like an artist's den with all the works in progress.
For weeks at a time I don't have the energy or the desire to clean, but I have the drive to create stuff which often leads to clutter. Then, and this day does eventually come, my head finally feels clear and I find myself sorting out the clutter, rearranging furniture and starting fresh. I would like to get to a point where my space is always clean, or at least the floor always clear, but I'm not there right now. If my room is a mess, my mind is probably a mess -- full of ideas and dreams, worries, and future wonders. It's when it is blissfully clear that I feel the urge to also make my space clear.
The desire to clean struck yesterday and my room is again in a relative state of clean.
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