Few weeks ago we rented a bigger basement for our stuff. I opened one random box and this is what I found:
- A cubicle black stone from either Prague, Budapest, Česky Krumlov or Gdańsk.
- My first (and obviously last) horse's hair.
- A shopping receipt from 1926. The bought item was a lilac. (I have a piece of that as well in my old plant collection.)
- Some unused jeans and corduroys from the 70's. (Designed for unusually tall twiggy person, which I am not. )
- Dave Grohl's plectra.
I have one flat, one basement and one house full of stuff, which is unimportant, but important.
I was just sitting in my huge old armchair next to my precious books and I was thinking of what would happen to me if I had to choose only one thing to take with me.
I tried to imagine myself into a pure white room with just one object.
I tried to achieve a moment of enlightenment and harmony, but I realized I am an embodiment of chaos.
If I some day will end up to be alone, I will most likely face my destiny by being buried under my belongings.
I have always thought that it is good to live with a person who is different from you.
Mr Fox is very tidy (although he forgets everything).
He cleans all up with a boarding school based pedantry and then he forgets where he did put all his (and my) stuff.
I can find things easily from the mess I have made, but not from the room someone has cleaned up. (Actually, don't get me wrong, because I do clean up very often, but I can't keep my stuff under control.)
But what would it be like if I lived with an another embodiment of chaos?
Would it be an unfathomable confusion or a neutralized harmony?