i been thinking a lot about collecting and hoarding and the landscape of waste we create in our manner of destruction of ecosystems of animals of people in our war on the planet. it used to be hoarding was storing up goods for disaster. now it is an aberration of that instinct. the disaster is all about us, and the goods are not food but objects that simply accrue like money and technology. we become more acquisitive as our spirits atrophy and hunger for more. 
thinking, thinking even can be acquisitive, when we glean and glean trying to form a whole in such a blasted fragmented world. 
thinking about art, about the museum of nature replacing nature. the hollow nature of collecting in the disaster. 
it's not that our brains are primitive and casting back to some archaic disaster. it's a real disaster happening now we simply can't understand. we do we do it. why do we kill and kill and kill. what do we gain? freedom? never. we get stuff. and then we get dead like the ones we kill to get stuff. most of my stuff is other people's stuff, but the profusion was killing me.
all leading to my thought of the day, and the days to come, that even in time of chaos and hateful war on the life of the planet, we can create transformation. 
yesterday when i heard about fen i was grief-struck and i wanted to shut down. thankfully, r. came and we began again the work of unburdening my space of the despondent collection that has overwhelmed me. it started with r. it started with a chair. it was expensive for a chair. but it was not expensive for transformation.
if there is one thing we can do in our singular abode it is transformation. from the starting point of that singularity, we can begin to see how we are collecting in the world, what we are hoarding, in the disaster our hoarding creates.