ten thousand things

My free time is spent dying, prepping and spinning fiber like mad trying to get ready for the Bazaar Bizarre this Saturday. I vow to have fun, no matter what. That said, I'm going to try hard to also avoid having a sparse booth.

If I'm so busy, why then am I playing around with ephemera? Why do I just want to draw and glue?

There is so much stuff everywhere my mind is starting to clutter. I fancy myself someone attracted to clean, modern design and smooth surfaces. However, my apartment currently looks like I'm about to have a large yard sale, and unrelated items are stacked up everywhere.

But the joy I get everytime I reach into the 15-pound box of white fiber to find the right piece to use is fantastic. I get giddy and excited that I'm allowed to have a giant box like this here. I'm not nuts, I'm an artist. There is potential in every such object, I just need to find what it is...

Or, I need to seriously have a yard sale. And SOON! Before I start to believe this crap.