Shopping for inspiration

It's anybody's guess what will come home in my car after an outing.

Yesterday I went for coffee with a friend and came home with giant brown paper bags. A find! They were in Morrison's Warehouse*. We stopped in. I can spend hours looking around. What will I do with them? Who cares? I was struck by their potential, not their practicality. (Although they look extremely useful. Sturdy. Thick. They'll be perfect for something. It'll come.)

Today I popped into Ace Hardware for an extension cord. I lost 30 minutes or more gazing at the hanging hinges, plumbing, shelving, doorstops, light fixtures and electrical whatnot. These things mesmerize me. I don't know what most are or what they do. Their shapes are unusual, their purpose a mystery. In my absence of knowledge, they take on alter egos. They are sculpture, art pieces, mixed media, teaching tools, medical miracles, tribal carvings, injection-molded marvels in blister packs.

How do I get sucked into the vortex of visuals, unable to tear away? Why does it feel so satisfying? Do I need to acquire 99-cent items by the dozens? I don't especially want most of them; I just want to look at them.

Maybe it's slowing down and floating that feels so good, being in the zone.

Or maybe it's the possibility of being struck by inspiration in another realm of consciousness, an unexplored kink in my curly little brain.

Maybe I just enjoy the change of scenery, the solitude of wandering, the freedom to go where I please at my own speed, having pretty things to look at for a while, time to think, a chance to take my imagination out for a walk. An exercise in creativity.

Is this the therapy in retail therapy? (Do I need therapy? I hear everyone does.) Is it a waste of time? I don't think so. I may buy paper bags and extension cords, but I come home with new energy and fresh ideas.

Such a deal.

Besides, there's something intrinsically valuable in looking at objects or people or even concepts and playing "What could that be?" because, given half a chance, the game becomes "What else could that be?"

Not a bad way to develop a habit of living in possibility.

*Gosh, do you think anybody'll catch on ?

1 comment:

  1. A terrific post. Taps into that creative place in your brain that's just dying to play with the greatest grown-up toy known to man, your home.