In the years that I have been a vagrant, or at the very least a renter of rooms or a plant of shallow roots, I have toted around these pieces of pieces of what I would hope one day would be art. A collection of bobbles and sparkly bits that would some day validate my creativity. I am surrounded by bits of paper torn from newspapers, watterstained flyers for bands or books, or mexican dj's, bike tires dominos and foreign currency. It's nothing and everything to me. I remember where I found, collected, treasured nearly every piece of dinomite wire and bottle cap I have saved.
But here is the impetus of the situation. When is it potetial art and when is it crap you've been lugging around? I am pretty sure I could artfully collage everthing I owns in some way or another and still have glue stick and paper bits to spare.
Is the desire to create something from my random treasures enough to justify the space it takes up?
Part of me wants to make a clean break, start tossing the the babydoll parts out with the bath,
start with fresh water and fresh ideas.
But I kept this box of feathers for a reason, and sometimes creativity moves at a snails pace, ideas need to marinate, and glue needs to set before applying the next layer. What I need are more shelves!