Routine of Life

“True freedom is the freedom from your own self-imposed limitations. It’s the ability to accept situations as they are, in all their abundance and all their lack…” – Lori Deschene

I am a minimalist at the very core of my existence.  I clearly remember the first time I was aware of such a choice.  I think it was so clear because it was so sparse, so minimal in color and complexity.  I saw a series of paintings featuring a church as the main focal point.  The first painting was in the expressionist bent.  Basic yet colorful with shadows ands highlights to accent all the shapes.  The last painting was of the same church, same basic angle.  It only highlighted the Cross on the wall of the church building.  The building was only pastel white with some shadows.  Throughout the progression of the five paintings (over a thirty year time frame is suppose) the essentials of the picture were the only survivors.  A shadow under the overhang of the roof, a piece of tile on the edge of the siding and the cross are all that remain against a white pallet. 

Some people would say I am just "cheap".  "That is a fine place to start", I would tell them with all the glee I could muster.  Some people call me crazy.  "So what, at least my nose holes are the same size as my pinky finger."  That gets them every time.  Philosophers say, If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?  I say, if a light is on in an empty bathroom , are you wasting money?  I say, if there is food left on your plate, are you wasting food?  If a picture can be painted with less and still show the beauty and majesty of the subject, why waste the paint?  Reader's Digest used to publish condensed versions of novels.  I am not sure that is the same idea.  There is a website that publishes short stories that are three sentences long.  It is like Haiku.  I remember there was a roller coaster ride at Wayne's World in Virginia and the slogan was "We came, we rode, we hurled".  Enough said.

My dad always told me to "keep my mouth shut" and I would be better off.  I used to think he was a minimalist but "shut up" uses fewer letters and facial muscles.   I guess he just did not want to say "shut up" all the time.  He was not of the minimum bent.  He would give me a whole bucket of nails and say, "go over them and pound all those nails in that board and leave these good boards for me".  Now, I can pound nails like a dry drunk on a jones'n fit.  That board weighed about thirty five pounds and it could no longer float.  I threw it in the canal and it sunk like the Lusitania. I figured it was a waste of nails, time and dad's patience so I went and found Bobby for some entertainment.  Now there was maximum enjoyment for minimal effort.  

I really do try to write conservatively in word and length but I digress.