Some people may call it downsizing. Others may define it as cleansing. Others may view it as purging.
Regardless, the more one desires to travel this world, the more one needs to reduce the quantity of material goods, lighten the load, and unload the weighted baggage that ties us and grounds us to a single place.
At first it’s a smaller apartment, now it’s a smaller life.
What do these objects mean to us, and what does it say about us when we are willing to leave them behind?
- Blue Screen Of Death
The Yellow Object Of My Affection
We become connected to objects based on the level of emotional attachment we may have with the tangible item. Your grandmother’s candy dish is more than crystal, it reminds you of every time you went to visit and she let you have sweets – something your parents strictly limited. We save artwork on the refrigerator that our children drew because it reminds us that those handprints will never be that size again. We hold off opening the bottle of wine we bought on the trip to Napa Valley with the intent of uncorking the vintage on a future date of significance, which is still TBD (see Drink The Wine from April 2013). Whatever the reason, objects provide a tangible representation of our memories and our emotions, so while a photograph will do, seeing the candy dish or the artwork – or one day tasting the wine – brings back all those details in full, recurring enjoyment.
I have a deep attachment to my laptop, but I often have trouble determining if my affection sprouts from the collection of stickers sprawled across the surface, the adventures upon which we have embarked together, or the utilitarian necessity it lends to my life. I’m a writer, and whether a college term paper or a blog post, my laptop provides the necessary tools to transform ideas into Internet content. Still equipped with a DVD player, my computer served as an alternative form of entertainment when I lacked Internet, television, or company. Stickers slather the exterior reminding me travels to Hawaii and Wyoming, plus humorous quips, logos, and achievements. Perhaps the combination of its practicality, reliability, and posterity all unify into a single beautiful object of my affection.
A Rising Tide
Beach vacations sound tranquil and relaxing. Listening to the gentle ebb and flow of the waves, maybe splashing in the water as you stroll along the tide line – one moment cool, smooth sand and next ankles beneath the salt water stretching into a vastness over the horizon – and provides a sense of calm in its repetition. Now imagine the tide increases, and you find yourself deeper and deeper in the water until a wave rises over your head and you wait for the moment you can rise back above the surface and inhale. In computer terms, this may be the sensation when you see that first blue screen of death. Your computer is fallible and you may not have even noticed the increase time the device was taking to boot or restart or load. You may have lost what you were composing or editing or crafting. If you weren’t saving as you worked, you may be in over your head.
- Mousters Degree
- Roasted Jalapeño Blueberry Porter
- Ball Chairs
- Delano And Pompey
- Unopened Christmas Cards
- I Don’t Even Like Soccer
- The Deal I Made With Delano
- Down In Fraggle Rock
- The Portland Family Brownie Pan
- To Coin A Phrase
- Ode To Delano
- Our Last Inanimate Night Together
- Fragilé (It Must Be Italian)
- You Sunk My Battleship
- Camooseflage Pajamas