It’s been almost nine months now since I moved into this house.  Although I pared off a lot of my possessions off, I have a sizeable coating remaining which I have been attempting to even out into an evenly distributed, appealing aesthetic.  Professional decorators would probably describe it as “partially contained clutter.” 
    So far I have some surfaces and walls I’m satisfied with.  Others are still in progress.  The arranged spaces have a lot of stuff which I suppose could be simplified, but I’ve decided that is not me, and I’m now at a stage of my life that I feel free to have my space be me. 
    Across from the foot of my bed on the wall which faces me as I sit here with computer on my lap is a section of my life.  An original seascape painted by a dear friend and amazing artist, who died when we were 40, is mounted on the wall off center over a cubic organizer.  Underneath it is a heart-shaped picture frame made of shells created at a retreat with women from my church.  Inside it is a picture of my granddaughter running toward the beach. Above the right corner of the cube, Is a framed poem “Living Eulogy” by Maryanne mbl Racmacher which I’ve had for a number of years and aspire to live up to-- the last line, “she lived with intention.”  
    On the surface beneath these objects are three pictures pictures of granddaughter and my daughter’s graduation picture on the left, bowl of stones, shells and beach glass (once I set up as a fountain).  To the left of the bowl is another collection of shells laid out.  To the right of the bowl in my engagement picture displays a young inner young self, still alive with hopes, dreams and zest for life—without gray hair and wrinkles.  A flat, round, shorter bowl lies in front of the picture and a tall pitcher elevated at its right, both pieces of my mother’s china.  A picture of me as a baby, probably 6-8 months old, in a dress, dress-length sweater and booties which are tinted pink and a knitted bonnet with a white rim interlaced with pink ribbon.  
    The cubes below contain purple flowered boxes and some fabric cubes which contained pictures waiting for a place in a scrapbook, cards, cd’s and tapes, a box of candles, and a variety of pharmacy commodities. The books in this particular area include several devotional books and When I Am Old, I’ll Wear Purple, Daughters of the Earth, The Wall, I Sit Listening to the Win, Grandmother Stories of the Northwest, some Mary Englebreit books, The Language of Letting Go,  Illuminata, and others. 
    And there is a point to this exposure, connections to compare, and probably a poem stirring.  Stay
tuned!