Oh, the bag-o-shreds was calling out for transformation into a family of papier mache possums, with or without the O. But possums have little to recommend them in the cuteness, talent, or congeniality categories. By comparison, armadillos are Dos Equis spokesmammals. Very interesting!
Still, there's that bag-o bag-o calling me across recent butterfly symmetry art class projects and the nearing close-out of my duties as estate executor. It is a lightening experience to shred five years of Medicare EOBs*. It made me want to smash coffee cups, teacups, and Corningware on the patio and dance an ancient Greek circle dance with lots of hollering and a bit of vino.
I love that the shredder has forward and reverse switches for when I sort of overload it while pondering Greek omicron opossums----pi rho sigma tau upsilon.
Who thinks up clothes for little girls these days? We've been through blinking shoes that cause epileptic seizures, and shirts that shed sequins. Now, we have girls in white scalloped lace skorts that looks like Grandmother Effa Dale's long-line girdle, but without the hearing aid tucked in her brassiere. This photo is pinched from an adult fashion site, and the style is creepier on a seven-year-old!
Still, I'm reminded that there are boxes and old luggage filled with vintage clothing and, gasp, undergarments in this condo... gathering dust. No preservationist has come forward to offer me a million bucks to not destroy these 1919 nighties.
If I can make papier mache possums, I bet I can think of something more marketable involving the vintage clothing, and my loosely defined passions of embroidery, collage, paper-cutting, found materials, textile art, under-appreciated insects, macro photography, and ephemera. That might be beneficial. It might transform me from a suspected depressed hoarder into a savvy collector and artiste!
*Explanations of Benefits
© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder