Midnight, When I Became an Extreme Minimalist
FML.
After work I went to the local Safeway and as I was walking to the door I glanced back at the Escape and noticed something looked off. I gawked at it until the realization hit me like a truck. The hitch cargo carrier was empty. Some scoundrel had made off with the black cargo bag (a black bag that looks like a body bag) in the night. Damn, I didn't even make it a single night here before something happened. I had just read that Eureka has the highest property crime rate in California, and it seems that I’m getting the authentic experience here. I've decided I'm going to be positive about this though. I’ve only been going in there occasionally and lately I’ve been thinking of ways I could further downsize. Plus, I was always nervous about someone taking my things out of there. So my fear had finally been realized and dealt with. And to top it off, it was annoying to listen to that infernal beeping sound that indicated something was behind the Ford every time I tried to back up. Now all these problems have been solved! And there might be an additional benefit to all of this: focus. In life one can be good at n things to the first degree, or one thing to the nth degree. Before I left Colorado I knew I had to de-clutter my life but I didn’t possess the resolve at the time to get rid of everything. I knew that I ultimately wanted to focus on three things though: photography, drawing, and writing. There are so few distractions in my life now that perhaps this will leave me with a laser-like focus.
Ah, damn! I just realized that all of my art was in that body bag though: paintings, pencil drawings, watercolors, and pastels. It’s all gone. Arghhhhh… now this stings a little. Well, I still have my camera and pencils. Life goes on.
Update - This post was decidedly naked without an accompanying picture so I made one. At the end of the week this is the sole piece of artwork I have now: the old boss’s daughter. The one that has half the letters of the alphabet after her name in post-nominal initials because she’s a smart cookie. The one that drinks whiskey on the rocks. I wonder if the old boss knows I have her number…
