Is there “junk” in your life? Are you kidding? I am human, therefore I have junk!
What kind? What would you like? I’m sure I’ve got it somewhere. Books. Photographs. Goodfers. Old dog leashes. Old empty purses and briefcases — there’s nothing wrong with them … they just aren’t in current use — don’t call them junk!
Unframed original art. Musical instruments. Posters. Dolls. More dolls. Even more dolls. Pottery, ancient and new. Clothing that’s too small. Clothing I used to wear but don’t like any more. Old bills. New bills. Envelopes for bills I’ll never use because I pay everything online. Medicine bottles with and without medicine. Empty eyeglass cases. Old tax records. New tax records. Records. Stuff you can’t throw away but just accumulates with the years. Documents. Mortgage documents, remortgage documents, official documents, unofficial documents.
How do you get rid of it? I can’t get rid of it. It’s valuable. Maybe someday I’ll be able to frame the art. I have to collect the clothing and donate it. There are people who need clothing. It’s not junk to them. And the cameras aren’t junk. They are organized and carefully packed in their bags.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us JUNK. Junk! I beg to differ. It perhaps appears junky to the untutored eye. I look at that pile of stuff. I see a favorite poet, one to whose works I frequently refer. I spy a book I will read as soon as I finish the one I’m reading. The rest? The biggest bag, the blue one with handle and wheels contains a career’s worth of writing samples. Or maybe old doll clothing and the writing samples are somewhere else. I could open the bag and look. Nah. Then I’d have to figure out what to do with the stuff.
If only there was a room in the house with an available closet. The office is closing in on me.
The rest of the “junk”? Camera bags containing … are you ready? Cameras. And camera accessories. Set up so I can grab the medium-size yellow canvas bag, Garry can grab the black bag and we are off, each with our favorites including spare batteries and anything else we might need.
There’s a thin line between treasures and junk. Very thin and I tread the line with deep trepidation.
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