It was a principle of mine while editing: if in doubt, cut it out. The decisiveness of it made me focus narrowly on the problem to clarify what exactly was the doubt. I did not always cast 'it' out, but came to a positive path to solving whatever the problem was.
For some time now I have been wrestling with the whole question of getting rid of stuff. Throughout the years we have acquired more space which we have carelessly filled with accumulations, useful (sometimes), potentially useful, sentimentally potentially useful, ... so it goes. As long as there is space in the house, attics (at this point it is definitely a disadvantage to have two attic spaces!), garden, garage, then we might as well hang onto whatever it is. It might come in useful.
As we rapidly approach three score years and ten - I know that's just middle age these days - I want to be in control of the disposal while I am in control. So begins the turmoil. I am disciplined about acquiring new stuff (except books, and that will probably continue till I drop - in any case we donate box-fulls to Oxfam regularly), but am still a little lax about hanging on to shall we say occupational accumulations.
Sharper, 2005 (patchwork felted knitwear, metal mesh, cotton, flint)
Recently I have grasped the nettle of forcing myself finally to look at the yummy felted knitwear to see if anything positive can be made of it in my work. Could I move forward through using it? I have used it successfully some years ago as a patchwork background to Sharper (above). And I recently have experimented as written about here and here.
There are also various inherited items which cause problems; items which have been in the attic almost as long as I have had them. There is for instance the samovar suddenly brought to mind as mentioned in the previous post. There are the ivory items from parents' time working in Africa, etc. We have no children or other suitable relatives onto which to push the problem. Ebay is not a solution in most cases as the value is only sentimental - and marginal even then. And of course ivory cannot be sold - nor taken to the recycling centre. But this year I am determined that decisions must be made. I want to enter my 70s feeling as light and positive as I entered the 1970s - well, almost.