Recycled Article

I found a good article on engineered obsolesence.
This dude wrote it, then Treehugger linked it from Core77 who linked it from the Guardian.
We all took credit for the insight and brilliance of it, like we are so wise.

I don't feel well.
I think I'll take a rolaid and go to bed.

R.I.P. Mister Butch

A moment of silence for a great man and a great minimalist. Recognized king of the long, lost Kenmore Square - Mister Butch has passed on to the next thing. He will be missed.

10 things

Quasi-relevant to minimalism; the items on this list. What we did before DIGG, I'll never know...

buy ingredients

Busy folks who have no time to cook eat shit. This is my personal opinion, not a statement of fact. The contemporary grocery store experience is bizarre and surreal to me, with the long lines and carriages heaped with goods, it's more like preparing for Armageddon then feeding oneself. I am aware of places like Walmart and Costco, but I never shop at these palaces of domestic supply, surely that comes as a surprise to no one.

Food is gross. This in not my opinion, this is a statement of fact. It grows out of dirt and picked by the lowest paid labor or it is killed, skinned and stripped from sinewy bone. The appearance of sanitation or cleanliness is an illusion. Milk comes from sore and infected cows tits, eggs come from a chickens ass, and bacon is a chunk of a pig cut from the fatty outer layer of its skin. Don't distress this fact - people are gross too. Teeth are designed for tearing through flesh and mushing it up, then it enters the body where acids and enzymes go to work on it and leech out nutrients. When that process ends, we shit what is not useful into the toilet. Any sign of sanitary or humane application to this is self-deception. The bright colors and inventive packages are designed for the specific task of distracting your mind from the facts about what you are about to eat. I am at relative peace with the sheer nastiness of food. I prefer to buy it from a cardboard box on the floor, a hastily crafted table or even out of the back of a truck, but it is very important to me that I am able to see, touch, and taste my food before I buy it. When food is put into bags and boxes and stripped of its functional appearance - there is something inhumane about that. If you are going to eat chicken or a chunk of cow it dishonors the value that beast offers when it is called another name or packaged with a cartoon likeness.

I live on the third floor. Not that I am lazy, but I simply can not justify carrying all that boxed up food up three flights - not to mention discarding it all means carrying it back down to the dumpster. It is a matter of pride for me to generate as little waste as possible so I avoid heavily packaged items, opting to refill my peanut butter from that cool ooze machine at the market and baked goods from the *gasp* Bakery.

There is an economic principle known as "Value Added," which I will explain thus using the subject of potatoes. Besides being a popular word to misspell, it is a staple of my diet. I pay about a dollar a pound for the spudsy treats that are trucked down from Maine, they end up in my soups, fried in oil with some salt, or smashed cruelly into oblivion before they end up in my stomach. The same amount of potatoes ushered into an industrial process will yield a frozen, bagged french/freedom fry product that will sell for about two dollars and fifty cents. Another version of the same food would be the semi-fancy potato chips, albeit more vigorously fried, their price per pound increases to nearly four dollars per pound of potatoes. This practice extends to all foods in all directions. The more complex the food, the greater effort of production - the greater the cost. Buying food in its natural form and then preparing it yourself saves energy from the cooking, packaging and shipping. Besides, packaged food is the logical destination for "Grade B," eggs and other deformed or maligned crops. The price is lower, plus you have some control over quality. We've all got that crazy purple potato chip or one with a Virgin Mary on it.

I use ingredients. Storage of several small, fresh items replaces endless cupboard space filled with boxes, bags, and packages of nonsense food. There are no food dyes, no chemical additives or preservatives, and everything is honest. No deceptive monosodium glutemate disguising something un-natural tasting, no petroleum derivitives, because food is gross enough.

Bring a Lunch

I got shit canned from a job once. Painful memories there. I had to go back to work at an old factory job while figuring out what to do next. It wasn't a terrible thing for me really, since my outlook is pretty simple: When you are at peace with badness, nothing overwhlems you. The best part of this terrible thing? Lunch.

My co-workers were mostly immigrants, dad's ditching child support, hustlers, drunks/drug addicts or some combination of one and the other. The finest collection of desperate losers you ever saw with a collected 180 years of experience - there was never a dull moment. We were located in Chinatown, and being even too broke for Chinese food, we bought up all these cool stainless steel lunchboxes. They were about $5-$10, depending how fancy you wanted to get. Myself, I splurged and went for the five tier, heavy gauge, fancy shit and it ran me $12. We would all bring in lunch together and share.

As meals go, there was a pretty interesting mix of cold pizza, curry and rice, chicken, ribs, mac + cheese, ramen, and all kinds of crazy vegetables. I used to go to the Arab market and score Pitas and hummus, dried apricots or raisins, olives, and goat cheese. We got tea from Chinatown real cheap. It was an extravagant daily affair and for some of the gentlemen it was the only meal they would get. We would set these Bento/Tiffin boxes on top of the big heater in the middle of the room and by lunch everything would be nice and hot. Somebody would sneak out early for smokes, an icy 30 pack, and scratch tickets. Cost to each of us? Under 5 bucks.

Our boss and his hot ass secretaries used to join us, even though they could get steak tips and mesclin salad from the yuppie place, just because it was like Thanksgiving everyday. I used to get stuff from the store to feed the others that I never even tried myself, like this knotted, herbed, cheese rope thing - just because it was cool looking. Besides, we were all friendly and there was unique bond of trust that gets forged from eating someone else's food.

The minimalist moral for this is simple. Bring a lunch. No Styrene box or plastic forks, no overeating, no food poisoning, no lines to wait in and - the price is right. For me the most important thing was the harmony of sitting down and eating with others. Even in a shitty, hot factory with people many would regard as outright evil, sitting and eating together is still awesome. I ate things I would have never tried and heard stories that might not have been told without that trust. No question - bringing a lunch makes you a better person.

Save energy

Being a minimalist has many parallels with other hippy causes. I used the word minimalism in the first place because the word I really wanted to use was already taken. That other word was "Conservative." At the time I got caught up in a "Green Building" project and all of my research for "Greening" kept circling me back to conservation. Using less energy from the start, and producing less waste meant not needing recycling - which uses A LOT of energy. I focused on the reuse/renew part of the triad, and literally factored the recycling part out as fat. "Put some barrels in the corner..." were my exact words when pressed on the subject. Not to bash Recycling. I do it when I get a plastic bottle or tin can or something, but I try not to buy packaged stuff. Its just more work.

Regardless of what you call yourselves though, here is a good list stolen from some earth day site with a list of some stuff that you can do to Green/LOHAS/Minimalize or just be plain old conservative (the list was endorsed by a wartime president). Its intended for earth day, but I think it should be used everyday.

Use the Energy Star program to find energy efficient products for your home. The right choices can save families about 30% ($400 a year) while reducing our emissions of greenhouse gases. Whether you are looking to replace old appliances, remodel, or buy a new house, the can help. ENERGY STAR is the government's backed symbol for energy efficiency. The ENERGY STAR label makes it easy to know which products to buy without sacrificing features, style or comfort that today's consumers expect.

Turn off appliances and lights when you leave the room.

Use the microwave to cook small meals. (It uses less power than an oven.)

Purchase "Green Power" for your home's electricity. (Contact your power supplier to see where and if it is available.)

Have leaky air conditioning and refrigeration systems repaired.

Cut back on air conditioning and heating use if you can.

Insulate your home, water heater and pipes.

Keep in mind that every trip adds to air pollution.

Replace incandescent light bulbs with Energy Star qualified Compact Fluorescent Light bulbs (CFL). If every household in the U.S. replaced one light bulb with a CFL, it would prevent enough pollution to equal removing one million cars from the road.

Use less water

Look for the WaterSense label to identify water-efficient products and programs. The WaterSense label indicates that these products and programs meet water-efficiency and performance criteria. WaterSense labeled products will perform well, help save money, and encourage innovation in manufacturing.

Don't let the water run while shaving or brushing teeth.

Take short showers instead of tub baths.

Keep drinking water in the refrigerator instead of letting the faucet run until the water is cool.

Scrape, rather than rinse, dishes before loading into the dishwasher; wash only full loads.

Wash only full loads of laundry or use the appropriate water level or load size selection on the washing machine.

Buy high-efficient plumbing fixtures & appliances.

Repair all leaks (a leaky toilet can waste 200 gallons a day).

Water the lawn or garden during the coolest part of the day (early morning is best).

Water plants differently according to what they need. Check with your local extension service or nurseries for advice.

Set sprinklers to water the lawn or garden only - not the street or sidewalk.

Use soaker hoses or trickle irrigation systems for trees and shrubs.

Keep your yard healthy - dethatch, use mulch, etc.

Sweep outside instead of using a hose.

Learn how to plant trees, build a pond, compost...

Reduce:

Buy permanent items instead of disposables.

Buy and use only what you need.

Buy products with less packaging.

Buy products that use less toxic chemicals.

Reuse:

Repair items as much as possible.

Use durable coffee mugs.

Use cloth napkins or towels.

Clean out juice bottles and use them for water.

Use empty jars to hold leftover food.

Reuse boxes.

Purchase refillable pens and pencils.

Participate in a paint collection and reuse program.

Donate extras to people you know or to charity instead of throwing them away.

Reuse grocery bags as trash bags.

Recycle:

Recycle paper (printer paper, newspapers, mail, etc.), plastic, glass bottles, cardboard, and aluminum cans. If your community doesn't collect at the curb, take them to a collection center.

Recycle electronics.

Recycle used motor oil.

Compost food scraps, grass and other yard clippings, and dead plants.

Close the loop - buy recycled products and products that use recycled packaging. That's what makes recycling economically possible.

— CAREY GREENBERG-BERGER

Don't Smell

I Battle with odor.
There isn't a deodorant made by man that I have not tried and every one has failed me. The one that came the closest was Old Spice. Of course, the only reason it worked was because it overpowered my stink with a greater one. It didn't fight odor as much as substituted it with abstract macho scents like "Pure Sport" or "Glacial falls."

For a while I tried to abstain, but that didn't go over too well. The justification for this was the reports linking the strong chemicals with all sorts of health problems. As far back as I can remember there were always surgeon general warnings painting deodorant bad, and the details were always on the box of breakthrough alternative products. They made it sound so dire that spraying on right guard or smearing a pit with a jelly stick felt like I was putting a fucking gun in my mouth. At lunch I would walk through the department stores looking for the sample ladies to give me a hit of Cologne.

This will sound odd, but now I use limes. That's right, limes. I worked with a guy from the islands, and one day I saw him cut up a lime and reach under his shirt with it. This looked as weird as it sounds, so I asked what he was doing and he said this was how he kept from smelling. He cut me a piece and I tried it. You know what? The shit worked. You could use a lemon too, but I find it too acidic and it gives me a little rash. I know it sounds crazy, but try it. I promise that you will give up in that freaky chemical stick made from god knows what and smelling like metallic ice (?) what and switch to cool familiar scent of lime. The official minimalist deodorant.

Go to the Library

This weekend I helped a family member move a bookcase so they could get new rugs. It wasn't too much work. The books came down in order laterally and I lined them against the wall, then after moving the bookcase, they went back in the order they came down again. This explanation seems excessive, but it's amazing how people can be funny about little details. Things like the order their books sit on the shelf. In this case, the books belonged to a now deceased relative and were kept in the order of their favorite books from left to right. Although I don't believe that the order of books has any meaning, it is a good way to keep them around the house. Which brings me to this weeks subject: The library.

I used to have lots and lots of books. There wasn't any organizing, what I was reading was on the floor by the sofa or bed, what I had finished were tossed into the pile, and what I didn't like was leveling a table, holding open a broken window or in the bathroom to save money on TP. It's nice having books in the house, its a good way to broadcast a love of knowledge. Visitors can quickly get a sense of who you are by what books you have. Interesting people tend to have interesting books. I still have a few favorites around to thumb through, but mostly they are for show. All of my serious reading comes from the library.

My local branch is very close, so I make more use of the library than most people. The library is not behind the times either, they have good web integration where books, movies and CD's can be requested online. There is no reason to spend hard earned cabbage on DVD rentals or books. You can even use the Internet for free.

It is not enough to simply use the library, you must participate. Every branch has a "friends of the library" group or civic equivalent and I recommend you join. For instance, my library was not current with its wireless Internet service and the old ladies that traditionally respond to such things didn't know the difference between 802.11B and 802.11G - indeed, it would be unreasonable to expect them to. I joined the library club and got smoking fast connections and now more people go to the library. A good library is a sign of a good community.

As for me, when I die and relatives are trying to find my ghost in the books, they will have to go to the library.

Shopoholic

My friends mother was a compulsive shopper. This was in high school, before the clinical social disorders we know today. A sufferer of ADHD was known simply as spaz, and shoplifting or cutting yourself got you a beating, not a prescription. I used to like hanging around the house over there because the "impulsive - compulsive buying disorder" would manifest itself mostly in grocery shopping. Everyday, sometimes several times a day, her mother would come home with carloads of groceries. Not cheap shit either, no double coupons or half off bakery items, it was full price fancy cereals and snacks. Big shiny boxes with smiling kids and moms or hip cartoon critters with hats on sideways bursting with food attitude. I would help carry all this stuff inside - bags and bags of it - then I could have all the die cut processed chicken treats and Hot Pop'em's™ I could eat. Many times I was given stuff to take with me to help make room for tomorrows haul. Being very ignorant, I thought this was the most wonderful thing in the whole world.

It wasn't until much later that I realized the scope of the shame of this problem. These weren't rich people. Vain, yes. They had a lot of nice things and a big house, but they got it all with credit, they didn't actually own any of it. I was there for the delight of carrying in the groceries and tearing open the bags, but I didn't get to see the father come home from work to see all his hard earned money converted into groceries that would go bad and crap from the mall. He would get bullshit and make her take it all back to the store. You can imagine what that must be like, to take a whole carload of groceries back to the service desk and ask a high school drop out to redeem your money. She was too ashamed to go back to that supermarket and had to go a few towns over.

The spoof ad for spoof drug Dolorax at the top of the page appeared in Adbusters circa 2001. It claimed to be the clinical cure for consumption and was styled cleverly after the barrage of psychotropic drugs that were flooding the market. Though probably not intended to be prescience, this very moment research is being done on a synthetic drug that will do what Dolorax advertised. A study was completed and its findings were published in the American Journal of Psychiatry (I get it for the recipes) which found that one person in twenty are compulsive shoppers. It was even suggested that the condition be added to the DSM, since it is the cause of so many social, psychological and financial problems for sufferers. After all, gambling and drinking are regarded as social problems and they have similar effects to compulsive shopping, but it isn't really taken seriously because people assume it only affects rich women. Overconsumption hurts all classes, often being the cause of financial ruin or credit catastrophes. Men, as it turns out, also have a compulsive shopping problem, but because it is emasculating little attention is paid to it. Anti-depressants were helpful in treating compulsive shoppers, suggesting that maybe the problem is a symptom of something else, like deep depression, and should be treated that way.

Third World Farmer

This is a cool game

B.Y.O.B

Near my house is a small market where I buy food. They have a good produce selection and reasonable prices. Its owned and operated by an Arab family and it looks a little dowdy, which is a plus because its never really crowded and I can't understand the other shoppers, so they don't annoy me with their conversations. My only qualm is that they obsessively give me plastic bags. Produce, that is already bagged, gets two more layers of plastic baggery and if an item meets a little resistance on its way in the bag, it just gets its own new double bag. For every one item that I buy, I come away with three plastic bags. At first I did the "life gives you lemons/lemonade," thing and tried to use them as trash bags, but I honestly didn't have that much trash, not to mention the huge tears they tend to get on the short trip home. Suddenly I am surrounded with these wispy ghosts of purchases past floating around the house. They have no heft, so they can't even be hung by their own weight from a doorknob. I fucking hate them.

Fed up, I invested in a set of hippy canvas cloth flour sack looking things for my produce and those stretchy fishnet shopping bags to put it all in. In hindsight this was sort of a waste of money. I could have used an old pillow case if I wanted, the only reason to use the fishnet shopping bag would be to transmit my values to other shoppers. Let me tell you, the line at the super market is not the forum for an ecological, world changing demonstration. Taking - EVEN ONE EXTRA SECOND, would summon the grouchiest, grumpy demons from the shortest queue and the single guys buying nachos and old ladies would start their less than subtle eye rolls and "C'mons....". Sometimes I would be too slow to correct and the well honed bagger would be packing and double bagging my stuff before I could even utter a word. Experience has taught me that if this happens, let them finish. The mental routine of the checkout does not include conscious thought and snapping them out of the trance of bagging groceries and counting money never goes well.

I still use the hippy flour sacks to bag my produce and the Arab market family actually really like them. Where ever they are from, it is how they would carry food home and they like mine because they have a little string which adds a few extra cents to my purchases. The opposite is true at the big super market. I get sneers and raised eyebrows from everyone. They hate the opaque bags because they have to fish through to get the SKU numbers, so I rarely buy fruit from them or I limit it to lettuce and stuff that doesn't need bagging. I gave up on the fishnet shopping bags.They didn't stand up to my dense melon and carton of milk combos. Besides, I was always afraid to buy something small that might fall out. Now I use a great big courier bag which is so big one could convey a sink with it. The act of putting this impressive bag at the end of the convey er eliminates all doubt whether I want paper or plastic. It's does all the talking and it says, "NEITHER FUCKFACE, I BAG MY OWN SHIT!"

Don't be a Slob

By nature I am a slob. A wicked big slob. It was natural for me to put clean and dirty clothes into to same pile, as if by fission I would end up with only modestly funky clothes. The big pile was a prominent feature in the corner of the room. It had books, wet towels, Xacto knives - you name it, and when company came over? I just threw a blanket over the pile. I remember one time I had a guest at the house and I made them wait downstairs while I stuffed everything into a sleeping bag and threw it in a room mates closet. Grody to the max, but when you work too many hours and live with too many roommates who drive you from the house sometimes it's easier to build a false reality than face the real one.

When the time came and I was enlightened to the effects of my slovenly ways it was clear that I wasn't just unorganized, there was a surplus of clothes. I had enough garb in that pile to clothe me for a month and a half without doing laundry, which was frequently the case. It would take two full days to properly wash and dry everything in that pile. Heaps and satellite piles sat in the cellar in big black trash bags waiting for me to get the time, washing only the essential delicates as need dictated.

Years later I reformed. During one of my many purges I sorted out the gristle from my wardrobe. Irredeemably damaged and uncomfortable items went first. Sweaters that were too itchy, shirts that were too tight, unforgivably stained or torn pants were good candidates. Anything that you would wear only because everything else is dirty should not be in the closet. Today I am left with mostly durable, mostly dark clothing. I am still a slob and spill all sorts of things on my person, and still absently wipe my hands on my pants when a towel is out of reach (I have towels everywhere now). I keep work clothes in the closet where I can't see them or touch them and my leisure wardrobe is on a rolling rack, neatly pressed and organized. I like to keep my clothes out in the open to remind myself of how far I have come.

Think that was the worst part? Far from it. This habit wasn't restricted to my dress, everything was like this. Worse than this was the dishes. As long as there was a clean dish to eat off, there were ten dirty dishes that could wait. I didn't do dishes after I ate like I do now, I did them when someone complained, and frequently only washed the dishes I needed. Essentially, the dishes weren't stored in the cupboard, they were stored dirty in the sink. Glasses were all over the house with little petri dishes of dried up whatever in the bottom. In my defense, I didn't live alone and a lot of the trouble came from not taking responsibility for using a glass, or using a similar glass and being confused about which one it was, and there was NO WAY I was washing a room mates glass... In the end we all wound up in a philosophical deadlock, and drank out of travel mugs that were off limits to others. Yes, the glasses all stayed dirty on the windows sills and side tables, I think until we moved.

Much has changed. Far from the punk rock, thrift store dishes, I don't even eat off anything that hasn't won a design award. There are only enough for two or three people, so there is no surplus to pile up. I used to have different cups for different drinks, but now I just have an all purpose glass for cold and hot alike. This sort of thing saves a lot of space on the shelf.

To sum up, minimalism didn't really kill my inner slob, but it made it harder to make a mess. I know myself and my weaknesses and if I hadn't become a minimalist there would still be great big piles all around. Really, how useful is something if you keep in a pile on the floor? Do you even value it? The soultion was so simple: I shouldn't have stuff. No stuff, no mess.

With this perspective it was easy to understand that I was wasting a lot of time and energy moving piles around and sorting through dirty/clean stuff. Its ironic how exhausting being a lazy slob can be. I never really felt comfortable in my home, which caused a lot of other problems. It's funny to tell the story, but at the time it was a pretty terrible way to live.

Get a Wok

I love my Wok. I use it for everything, even to cook food that was never intended for Wokery, like popcorn and fudge. Mine is the Lodge cast iron kind, so I even bake in it. Not fine pastry of course, but anything else that goes in the oven. It may not be the best for that purpose, but its good enough for me, and it means that I don't have to keep a kitchen full of useless pots and pans.

For the minimalist there is nothing better than the Wok. It uses one small burner and concentrates heat effectively and evenly. Wok's are easy to care for, mostly you rinse it with water and wipe it with some oil. Its versatility negates the need to keep an assortment of frying pans, sauce pans, steamers, roasting pans, fish poachers, quesadilla makers, and so on, because it does all those things, and stuff you never even thought of. One glance under the cupboard, at that precarious balancing act of noisy pots would convince anyone to get take out instead.

So, get rid of all that other stuff, and get yourself a Wok.

Happy New Year

It's a new year. Time to go around the house to change the calendars and have a good hard look at the expiration date on the milk. As holidays go, it has different meaning to different people. For some it is very important to have someone to make out with at midnight, for others it's a time for alcohol and a chance to make a real asshole out of yourself.

Most folks take advantage of this holiday to do a personal audit. They decide that maybe this is the year to finally get organized or lose those love handles. It's as good a time as any for a review of values, especially after the nonstop feasting and gluttony of Christmas. Though enthusiasm tends to wane, it really is the only time of year that people openly talk about the way they choose to live, and give long hard thought to how they might improve themselves. I have read somewhere that new gym memberships, sales of diet pills, nicorette, and self help books are at an all time high in the first two weeks of the new year, but that by April these endeavors are forgotten and its back to smoking and driving drunk to get a box of doughnuts.

This new year I recommend to the masses - minimalism. Truly the best way to save money, help the environment, be more organized, stop smoking and eat better is by being a minimalist, even if you give up on it by February. I make this appeal now in the few days that anyone might actually be considering a different path through life.

Minimalism is really just a shift in perspective. The question one should ask is: Do I really need this? Sure we all desire things, but are they, in fact, useful? Look at the stuff you needed last year. How many times did you actually use it? Now that you need places to put all booty that Santa brought it's a good time to consider how many years have you stored something in a closet before the realization that it was obsolete the day it came out of the box?

Minimalism, as a way of living, has really helped me keep my house cleaner, keep more of my money, generate less trash and generally be more focused. I have more time because I am not caring for the things I own. Less sorting, cleaning, digging around through piles means less frustration too. Minimalism is a great compliment to the way you already live.

learn to sew

Very few people would ever admit to doing it, but we have all thrown away a shirt because it was missing a button. My mother had a big basket full of sewing stuff, and as poor kids we were always in need of mending. I recall once sewing a pair of sneakers so that I could get a few more miles out of them. To this day it is one of the skills I rely on regularly that has saved me a fortune in clothes. Maybe I got teased for having a patched up butt or knees, but I would have got teased anyway.

A good sewing kit is cheap, and it usually comes with everything you could possibly need. The one I have now came from a vending machine in a hotel lobby. I paid 75¢ for it. The hardest part is threading the needle, which can be frustrating, but practice makes perfect.

For the very advanced, a good sewing machine isn't hard to find, and usually worth having around. Creative or skilled people can come up with all sorts of ideas for old clothes and fabrics. How absurd to go shopping to find a one of a kind garment, when you could make one so easily. If you think people are going to tease you, don't worry, they'll tease you anyway.

The Way of Minimalism

Moving made me a minimalist.

Chasing low rent was the most compelling cause for minimalism. Unscrupulous landlords would gouge, and I would be unable, or unwilling to pay the increases. Even with co-habitation rent did not reflect value, and I was forced to move under similar circumstances every few months. I unpacked some clothes and other day to day needs but most of my belongings remained sealed anticipating the next move.

When I finally had the time I began sorting the boxes. They had become accidental time capsules, re-telling my moving adventures. It seemed that when I would occupy a space, I would acquire things. When the time came to jettison myself, there was frequently no time to pack neatly, and I would put everything on the floor into a box, and seal it. This happened several times in so many months.

Most of it was saved because it held assumed value, a reminder of a place, a birthday card, something funny that spawned an inside joke. Out of context these things were merely junk, and these boxes that I dragged around the city, up flights of stairs and jammed into cars produced nothing of any real value at all. Keeping these things really didn't seem like it was worth finding a place to store them. So I started to throw things out.

When I was finished, I found that I could not stop. after having annihilated so many stored goods, I could not liberate my critical eye. Suddenly everything that I saw prompted a review of its value. Clothes that didn't fit or were damaged, kitchen gadgets, objects d'art, and broken furniture were among the first to go. After that, there were records, and books and video cassettes that could no longer justify the space they consumed. When the smoke cleared I had an epiphany,

"I don't need any of this stuff."

It was true. The contents of a closet, under the bed, and a lot of basement space, cleared, and I didn't need any of it. There was some remorse. I had labored hard moving these things about from place to place, and I could have easily have left them behind. Feeling pretty stupid, vows were made and I began my life as a minimalist.

Making minimalism into a discipline was a lot harder than opening a few boxes, and in the coming posts I'll be adding a better description of the Way of Minimalism.