Think of a well-loved stuffed animal forgotten in a shopping cart, a lone glove sodden with snow, or perhaps cans littered in shrubs in the aftermath of a concert, a bar crawl, or a Tuesday evening. But objects left behind can be fascinating, too, partly because they hold untold stories. What I left behind, among donated clothing and MDF furniture, became mere stuff, optioned for either its next owner or the landfill. That initial moving list contained matter both living and non-living which seemed necessary-though not all utilitarian-to my daily life, and the rest of the items in my new space followed as I discovered new needs. Of course, my self-imposed ultimatum failed to account for the unsentimental yet practical things that might make a comfortable home, such as a standing fan, two-seat kitchen table, or toilet brush. A close relative with a hoarding problem instilled in me a fear of clutter from a young age, and moving is the perfect time to reevaluate one’s possessions.
During my recent out-of-state move from a sizable suburban home into my current studio, I resolved to condense my life into six storage totes, two cat carriers, a small car, and my own body.
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