Spring is the season of cleaning and getting rid of things that you don't use anymore, or you can not use it anymore. Getting rid of sentiments also is healthy, getting rid of gut feelings such as nostalgia, melancholia, depression, anxiety, fear, loneliness. Getting rid of something is almost as pleasing as getting something new. Sometimes even more. Sometimes you don't even need something new. Sometimes you take it because of a "discount".
When I was a kid I was told that there is better way to get rid of things than just throw it out. Remake, replace, rename, repaint, everything what includes "re" is actually worth it.
Most probably because of my parents, who were hippies and low income artists. Most probably because they wanted me to value things more than just call it a "thing".
That's why I my favourite teddy-bear George was washed, got new glass eye and a patch on it's butt and was given to my little friend from a neighbourhood and that kid enjoyed it. That's why I kept my desk mate's home phone number written in my notebook, maybe I'll need it someday, even though we don't talk anymore that often, maybe she doesn't even live in the same house, maybe her number have changed. But keeping the number is not a heavy load. That's why, "re" worked out for me.
But about discounts and cleaning up. I saw in the downtown discounts for axes. If I had an axe I would sharpen it once again and use it for one more season.
We get rid of things too fast, because it feels like you got bored of it. You never try to take a look from other angle. The first discount which blinds your eye gives you an eternal thought "It's new! I want it!"
I think I've been left as an old axe never used anymore for millions of times. Then discovered again and forgotten once more. There is always a discount on something better than you. Or maybe not. There is always better to be left in an attic than never be bought even with a discount.
So when you actually get tired of your belongings, think maybe you can "re" -them-better.
With re-freshened amount of kisses and platonic love
Ugne
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| Jean Cocteau |
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