I am totally charmed by the “tiny house” movement.  I began to investigate those sweet, compact spaces last week, when I stumbled onto a FB post, which included a video from Tiny Texas Houses.  I was so captured by the idea of living with less and building an affordable, portable home on wheels. Could I do this?  Do I really want to, and why?

There is something very desirable about shedding all the “stuff” I’ve accumulated, although, as a visual artist, I would always need a space to create, and this would not be easy to do in a tiny space - less than 400 square feet.  But my living space,  with 3 dogs, really does not need to be any larger than a place to sit, eat and sleep... not to forget a small bathroom.

I started to do an inventory in my head one night while lying in bed.  What could I actually part with, and what would I absolutely have to keep?  This was harder than I thought it would be, as I have stockpiled a great amount of collectables/art, which unfortunately tends to give my home a “gift shop” look - there is just so much!  Not to mention all of my art.  And, how do I part with family heirlooms?  I came up with the idea that it was time to pass some of these off to my grown sons... that should work, right?

Well, there is no immediate need to part with anything, but something tells me I should start some sort of cleaning out now... maybe put aside a pile or box of things that I can donate each week.  I think when we possess so many things, it tends to weigh us down.  You end up with a home that is simply there to house your stuff.  If you have ever watched George Carlin do his comedy routine on this, it totally sums it up.  It truly is an unnecessary expense, paying for a larger home.  It can be a real burden... just the energy alone to cool it in the summer, in my area of the world, is enough to convince me.

I am very attracted to the idea of living with less, but kind of afraid of it, too.  I think it has something to do with how we (our ego) self identifies... how we “see” ourselves, as if the material things we possess are who we are!  Instead of it really being who we are, it is more like “confining” or “restraining”  who we are.  Oh, I believe it is okay to have some things.  I like books, although I have found a way to read lately that does not really require so many paper volumes on a shelf in another room.  My nook works well, except for some books that rely heavily on the visual effect.

Something tells me that when I do let go, it will be like that scene in the movie ‘Contact’ with Jodi Foster as the main character who is traveling through a wormhole in space.  She was fastened to a seat, which shook violently - her body being ravaged, until she finally released herself from the chair, only to float softly about the space/time capsule, safely arriving to her unknown destiny.  I feel that “letting go” will have a similar effect for me.  Why hold on to something when you can freely move without its heaviness pulling you down?

This would simplify life.  And, then there is the beauty of focusing on the world outside of what we own - our primal connection with Nature.  This would be my inspiration - my church. 

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter. ~ Rachel Carson, Silent Spring

Here is a video that shows a family adjusting to their tiny home... just sweet.

Rewriting my "artist statement" should not be so labor intensive, and it is undoubtedly overdue for a change.  However, I think just for a small break from reforming this daunting yet short paragraph, I had to mention the large eye found on a beach in Florida a few days ago.

I was completely mesmerized by this… its color and size and the mystery surrounding it.  The photos depicted someone with gloved hands holding onto it with precious care.  It seems to be staring back at the viewer, as if it still has life running through it.  Definitely good material for some sort of deep-sea, science fiction story.

The lens looks thick, as if it were made from the finest blue crystal, and the pupil seems bottomless… a black hole that one wishes could playback all that it has seen.  

While my imagination went into wild stories of who once housed this magnificent eye, latest news says it probably belonged to some sort of swordfish… certainly of immenset size.  The bone around the eye appears to be neatly cut from its head - presumably by a fisherman who haplessly tossed it back into the ocean.  Wow… I guess he was not impressed?

Okay, If I were a fishermen and my life consisted of the harsh conditions of sea fishing for many years, I may not be too enthused with keeping such a large eye, but more with the meat of this same fish, and how it, or the money from it, might feed my family for a period of time…. I guess.

Still, I am happier conjuring up some story of deep sea drama… maybe a large, unknown creature who struggled from the jaws of a giant shark, but lost its remarkable eye in the battle, which happily floated to the nearest beach to give us land creatures an extraordinary sense of wonder.  I am so there.

I woke up a few days ago with an odd sensation on my hand.  It felt partially sore and swollen, and at a closer glance, there seemed to be a fairly nasty looking blister at the center of a quarter-sized, circular, red area.  It didn't itch, or even sting… it just felt odd when I moved my little finger, as it was closest to it.  Hmmm, what in the world… some kind of bite?

After researching a number of very unpleasant photos on the internet, it was clearly from a spider.  I am not phobic about spiders, but do not want to see one on my body, and the idea that one was on my hand while I slept in my bed definitely put a tension on my already-interrupted-sleep-patterns.

I read a bit about spider bites, even found out that the dreaded brown recluse can leave such a fairly minor reaction, rather than what I was seeing in some of those horrific photos. Not to say that being bitten by one would ever be considered small, but I learned a few things about this fearsome spider, as it is quite common in my area of the world.

Needless to say, after searching my sheets, pillows, blankets, mattress, underneath the bed, closets and the entire room, I found not one spider, which is unusual in my house.  I am the kind of person that tries to put them outside whenever I find them, but I will sometimes leave a few house spiders to stay in their little areas. They seem to be fairly harmless, and I know they eat bugs.

It seems that most common house spiders have fangs too small to break human skin.  That's good news.  That means that whatever bit me was probably more of a heavy hitter.  My imagination can go wild here.  

I have spared you any photos, deciding that taking one of my spider bite is not an image I wish to be remembered by.  Today, it looks much better, although still slightly reddish and the area where the bite occurred is kind of hard and raised.  Pervious to today, it drained fairly often.  I kept it clean and applied anti-biotic, but read that spider bites may not heal as quickly as a cut… just that the venom seems to linger a bit, and, oh yeah, destroys tissue.  Lovely. Never fear, those white blood cells came in to do their work!

It seems when something happens in our lives, there is an odd, coincidental pattern of other similar events, reminders, or what I like to think of as "signs".  A friend on FB mentioned her daughter being bitten by a spider.  She ended up in the ER overnight… scary.  I was watching something on TV and someone mentioned spider bites.  Another friend told me she had an uncle who died from one.  Wow.  I am feeling very fortunate, but also wondering what I am to take away from this?

In my entire life, I do not remember ever being bitten by a spider.  Intrigued,  I looked up the symbolic meanings of a spider, finding such descriptive words as "mystery, power and growth" along with the choices we make (the web we weave).  My favorite one is from Native American lore - the spider is personified as Grandmother, who was the teacher and protector of esoteric wisdom.  If only these attributes could be transferred by a simple bite.

There is also the brief fantasy of Spider Man's coming into his stronger more resilient self after he was bitten, able to climb any obstacles with amazing agility, confidence and intention. Perhaps empowering oneself is just a matter of shifting one's belief system, just a quickly as the spider makes the decision to bite one's hand.  One, being me, could learn from this.  

For now, I will nurture this unwanted head cold, and eventually ponder its meaning as I try to gather some energy for studio time.  Oh, and watching out for spiders.