Art Out of the Closet--and Drawers

The decluttering project is unearthing some long-buried "works" by her own self. The file cabinet yielded multiple copies of early drafts of oft-rejected stories, along with their respective rejection slips.

Much of this is getting tossed. I saved a few originals (and the rejection slips, in case I become "a cult failure").

And out of the closet come the canvases from my studio work at college, all with their respective layers of grime and dust. The ones that were in the closet are now in the trash. Just because I can't really throw things away, I took a few photos.

Click on thumbnails to enlarge. (And if you're tempted to use them, please credit: C. G. Wagner.)

There was one that was in the closet that I think I'll keep. The caption (added long after the class) is what saved it:

I have six canvases from that era that are still on my walls (for now):

  Detail:

  Detail:

And these are behind my sofa, which means I never look at them. Thank goodness. They're on the chopping block:

Love,
hosaa, decluttering.

The complicated life of a decluttering mind

Where have I been? Trying to stop putting off housework. Last weekend's task was clearing out a filing cabinet, getting rid of extra copies of failed stories.

Kept the file of rejection slips, though. I need the humble pie.

I came across this submission from August 2001 to The Washington Post's "Life Is Short: Autobiography as Haiku" column:

My niece, playing with my magnetic poetry kit, spilled words all over the kitchen floor.

"Please, no dirty words on the refrigerator," I joked.

My nephew asked if I would live in my tiny apartment forever, instead of asking if I'd ever get a husband and kids.

After they left, I found one tiny, insignificant word still on the floor. I put it on the fridge, in the middle, as a reminder. It's only dirty if it tempts me:

"ALL"

Love, hosaa
from that tiny forever apartment