Project Minima
dedicated to simplifying my consumption and accumulation of stuff (especially clothes), one step at a time, starting today 6-1-11 for one year. Ok, 2 years. Well, now we're going into Y3. Make that 4. - so who's counting anyway?
Friday, November 6, 2026
Wednesday, December 23, 2020
Sunday, October 18, 2020
Acedia: the lost name for the emotion we're all feeling right now*
*from theconversation.com
image of Acedia by Hieronymus Wierix
It begin as a deceptively slight shift in thought, or rather...a quick succession of thoughts that distract me from my right mind. I've been working too long and need a break; maybe I should read a mystery novel to clear my head. I tell myself I'm too weary to concentrate. I tell myself that it is a matter of respecting my limitations, and of being good to myself. If I manage to read one book, and then return to my other obligations, no harm is done. But often, one book does not satisfy me. My "rest" has only made me more restless, and as I finish one book, I am tempted to pick up another. If I don't check myself, I can slip into a state both anxious and lethargic, in which I trudge through four or five paperbacks a day, for three or four days running. I am consuming books rather than reading them.
I may have begun with a well-written novel, but soon I am ingesting whatever I can get my hands on. Morbidly conscious of the time I am wasting. I race feverishly through a book so preposterously and badly written that it nauseates me. If I pick up a more serious book, something that might bring me to my senses, I am likely to plow through it so thoughtlessly as if it were a genre thriller...My days are not lived so much as wasted in compulsive reading. I stop answering the phone and getting the mail, ignoring everything but the next page, the next book in the pile...
It amazes me how quickly acedia can deaden what has long been a pleasure for me, and with what facility despair will replace the joy I once found in the act of reading. But my dilemma is less literary than spiritual. If my torpor is left unchecked, I lose the ability to savor not only reading, but life itself. I develop a loathing for fresh food, letting salad greens and strawberries languish in the refrigerator while I fill up on popcorn...
from Acedia & Me by Kathleen Norris
I couldn't believe when I read the above passages! It was exactly what I've been doing/feeling. I've read several books on the topic, and this one has been the most comprehensive thus far.
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As for as Kondo-ing goes, I'm completely stuck at art supplies.
I did finishing going through my books and unloaded all my art therapy books, psychology, women's studies, fiction and art magazines. Kept all my art books. That ended up being about 25 boxes to the Salvation Army.
Papers were a real drag. I got rid of about 10 boxes of papers.
And that's the way it is/was
Thursday, September 3, 2020
Ever Onward
...in the midst of everything,
I've been tidying and/or escaping by reading novels.
But I did finish going through all my clothes (which included tops, skirts, pants, dresses, jackets, coats, scarves, hats, gloves, socks, undies, pjs, shoes, boots and bags). Oh my.
~ Guerra de la Paz ~
Let me give you the stats.
I got rid of 32 big garbage bags (to Goodwill). It me took about 3 weeks to go through all the clothes, and then reorganize what I kept and put it in place.
I'll break it down by category:
4 bags of tops to go, 4 big piles to stay, took 2 days
3 bags of dresses/skirts to go, 3 big piles to stay, took 2 days
6 bags of pants to go, 3 big piles to stay, took 1 days
3 bags of jackets/coats, 4 big piles to stay, took 2 days
0 bags of hats/gloves/scarves to go, all stayed, took 1 day
4 bags of socks/undies/pjs to go, 3 piles to stay, took 2 days
8 bags of shoes/boots, ? to stay (just enough to fit in my available space!), took 6 days
4 bags of purses/totes, ? to stay (I stopped counting the keepers), took 2 days
Then I went on to books...
...but that's another story.
Saturday, August 15, 2020
Quarantining and KonMari-ing
The perfect match.
Especially by my hand-made clothes and that unrelenting fabric stash. Oh, my.








