Moths and rust...and ceramic dust...

We interrupt the Minimalism 30-day purging for a nostalgic roller coaster ride!

That's what I get for venturing into the attic to nonchalantly find something to get rid of!  Papers.  Pictures. Grade cards.  Newspaper clippings.  Letters to Santa...apparently I wanted a basketball?

As I dug through a box in the stuffy, 105 degree attic, I could feel the life being sucked out of me.  The heat got to my brain and with decision fatigue setting in, I became overwhelmed and started ripping things to shreds.  When it got too hot to breath, I brought as much as I could carry to the first floor where I continued the task.

As I mindlessly and ruthlessly tore up a paper I wrote in a college class called, "The Human Experience"...I saw the words, "Kim...you are a true romantic!"  Oh, darn.  (slump over)  Do romantics destroy any part of their own history?  Maybe I'm just tired of feeling buried under the weight of physical things. 

This is where the nostalgia gets "really old".  These are my grandmother's sea sponges that she used for her pottery.  One was full of clay, the other with glaze.  (Lord knows what sort of toxins they contained seeing as most of the compounds they used back in the late 60's are now considered poisonous and not used anymore).  

They seemed old and crusty at first and I was about to toss them, but as I washed them out I realized they were fine...just full of material from the very last time my grandmother made pottery back in 1971 before she died from an aneurysm.

It occurred to me that even though I never met her, never got to see her make pottery or enjoy her company...I just got to do a chore for her by cleaning her sponges.

Even though I'm disposing of some of my own "now forgotten" past, I will keep her sponges and use them in my own art making.   The best part of nostalgia is the part that lives inside of you that moths and rust can't destroy and thieves cannot steal.  I believe that does make me a true romantic.