When Your Home Becomes An Art Installation
I didn’t just wake up one day with the impulse to transform my home into an ongoing art installation. My journey to this point was shaped by the unique challenges of my illness, which confined me indoors long before the concept of quarantine became globally recognized.
Over the years, this confinement became a canvas. I began amassing art, oddities, and various items that sparked joy, creating an oasis in my isolation. As time passed, I realized that I wasn’t merely collecting; I was curating. My home had transformed into a testament to Maximalism, reflecting my passion and resilience in the face of adversity.
Minimalism is nice…but…
If you have not noticed, America is obsessed with Marie Kondo, a Japanese author whose book, Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up, is the newest rage. Thrift stores like St. Vincents, Goodwill, and other rummage stores receiving carloads of items dropped off for donation at accelerated rates. Organization and minimalism are currently a style trend.
I love organization, and I proudly admit that I am that type of person that color codes my closet and has organized her library of books by subject followed by the author (now color coding them too).
If you ask me what is in any cupboard or drawer in my house, I can give you a detailed description that is as precise as mixing the game Memory and Tetris; an example might sound like this “Look in the 4th drawer down next to the hammer on the right side near the top of the washer.” Yes, I am a freak.
Saying that might mislead you to believe that Marie Kondo would be right up my alley, yet, my organization would be considered organized chaos. I am pretty sure after researching Marie’s work and what she stands for – she would faint the very second she opened my front door.
Boom. On the floor lays Marie while we try to rouse her by fanning her with cool air and coaching her with encouraging words. “Wake up Marie, it is not as bad as you think.”
Her tagline is “What sparks joy?”, and my answer is pretty much everything in my house.
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Extream Joy Meter
Perhaps my joy meter is out of whack, but who would complain about that? Now let me make this clear, I am not a hoarder. I like stuff, lots of stuff, and what sparks joy for me is copious amounts of handmade creative genius to get lost in like a forest for days. The stories, characters, energies these items possess, bring life to my house. My house is not just a dwelling keeping me protected by outside elements, it’s a magical, world in which I created.
My house is inundated with the artistic creations of people I know, people I don’t know, and art that has been rescued from thrift stores. Every bit of wall space is covered, as well as shelves and bookcases are filled with nonsensical creations layers deep. My home has weird pieces of random furniture that I pulled out of the trash and refinished.
I have artwork from a 12-year-old girl from Russia and old dusty books because I fell in love with the covers and thought about turning them into journals.
And most people would find nothing in my house of real value on the big open market. No gold, diamonds, expensive jewelry, big screen TV or lofty electronics live in my home of organized chaos, however, the value oof my collections of magical things has the deepest soul value. hat is far beyond the mighty dollar.
Minimalism is boring but I like it. Sometimes I get this overwhelming urge to rip all the items off my walls and shelves so they would be white and empty, but in the end, it only echoes emptiness and calls to me to put the souls back where they belong. I have done this dance a few times and, in the end, the organized chaos wins by a landslide.
