FOUR DAYS. FOUR HUNDRED PHOTOGRAPHS.
100 hours doesn’t seem like much, does it?
I’ve just returned to sunny Arizona after a long weekend in Oregon. I went to the University of Oregon to see a theater production–Mother Courage and Her Children. The performance lasted for three hours (and very much felt like it). To be fair, the show started at 7 pm, and I’m usually in bed by 8:15, so it’s possible that the one hundred and eighty minutes it took to tell me about the Thirty Years War were necessary, but I found the play wanting an editor. However, the actors were phenomenal, the set exceptional, and the live music sublime.
We packed a lot into the trip, which took place on the heels of my latest project, Cleaning Out The Garage. As I reviewed my cell phone photos on the plane ride home, I realized something: flipping through my photo stream is like peeking into my psyche. It’s very disorganized and fragmented, with very little weaving the myriad threads together. I see something interesting and snap a picture. I currently have over 10,000 photos on my iPhone. My boyfriend is really good about looking through his pictures after every event, and immediately deleting those he doesn’t like.
I’m not that guy.
Which brings me to the point of the following picture.
In January, 2017, I wrote a post about my New Year’s Goals. This past January, as you may recall, I again discussed how I move my goals from the previous year to the current year because I never seem to complete anything. And always first and foremost on the list, organize the house, once and for all. It tops my to-dos every year, and every year it just doesn’t happen. Well, not this year, my friends.
A few weeks ago I started sorting through decades worth of treasures in my garage. I’ve discarded a lot, donated a lot, and still have a long way to go, but I found something equally charming and creepy tucked along the block wall by the electric door.
These are the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. Each was the size of my pinkie nail. I tried picking one up, but they’re so fragile, it crushed between my fingers. So I took a picture.
After finding a stack of books to donate, I drove to the public library. It was time for a new library card, and I discovered my library now offers a choice of photo cards–and the cards include a mini version for your keychain. I was so charmed, I took a picture.
The next morning we flew from Phoenix to Portland, then drove to Eugene. It rained the whole first day, which is always a treat for those of us from Arizona. So much so, in fact, that I felt the need to snap a picture of this rainy highway sign:
The following day we went for a hike. Notice me in my parka. Anything under 74 degrees is chilly. (This one is actually a legit time to have captured a memory on film. Also, I airbrushed myself with an awesome iPhone app called Facetune. I’m telling you this because I love and respect you.)
|HIKING IN EUGENE|
|THE OREGON COAST|
Finally, back at the airport, I snapped a picture of one of my favorite bookstores, the infamous Powell’s Books. WHY? Why do I need a picture of the storefront of Powell’s Books at the Portland airport? What possible use will I ever have for such a photograph?
|POWELL’S AT PDX|
So my organizing continues to progress in a two-steps-forward-one-step-back dance. I toss a box of old clothes, I take fifty new pictures.
I have to admit, the digital clutter snuck up on me. I didn’t even see it coming.
What about you? What’s your vacation collectible? Where are your hidden stores of stuff? Confess in the comments below!