Visual clutter, sensory overload and the kitchen sink. Also, art school art.
February had 2 themes: restoration and regeneration. After nearly a year of non-stop hustling, I hit a wall, and for weeks, barely moved. During hibernation mode I could write, and I became more connected to my voice. Even into the 3rd week, the thought of leaving the comfort of home to take a walk next to the rumble of cars still felt like too much, but I needed to get some exercise. So I picked out a yoga video on Tubi, and have done it every day (as long as I can, which is usually the 33 minute mark). I can already bend over and touch my toes again, my energy is returning and my writing feels more connective.
What was the theme of your February? Did you start something new? Don’t hesitate to reply.
My husband does the cooking, and usually, we both clean up together. We’re supposed to all 3 of us clean together, but somehow my kid has timed his homework at exactly this time, every night. Recently, I invited my husband to play a game with me where we each start at one end of the kitchen and meet in the middle. It’s not the most complex game, but it helps me with the overwhelm I get from visual clutter.
I tend to feel a little run down and overstimulated after dinner. I’ve been working hard to follow conversation while my hearing aids amplify sounds like silverware clanking and cups hitting the table. My husband works hard to make really nice meals, and I want to help clean up, but the mess can feel overwhelming. The disarray seems to vibrate when I look at it. There are many loose ends to tie up, decisions to be made. I used to clean like a pinball, sort of hopping around from thing to thing. The job got done, but the reward was slow and the stress high.
From left to right or right to left
Now, I try to block the view of the mess by starting at one end of the kitchen. I start at the rightmost part of the kitchen, next to the light switch, and work my way left. I try to keep my focus on the object I put away to screen out the clutter, and always return to where I’ve been working. The counter clears quickly in my area of focus. The trail of clean spreads quickly, too. Each time I venture into the chaos, I have a clean, calm space to return to, at least, to the right.
I see myself like a horse wearing blinkers. Blinkers are face coverings that allow the horse to only see in front, not to the side or the rear. The Encyclopedia Britannica explains that we use them because horses have unique vision which “allows them to take in a great deal of information at once but may also cause disorientation.”
I can relate.
Double standards
When my husband is working, I cook dinner and he does the cleanup without me. It’s not because I’m lazy and he’s not. It’s just that the cognitive load of cooking is different for me, and combined with the work of processing speech when we sit down to dinner, I kind of crash out afterwards. As long as I have energy, I love to be up and helping and participating and socializing. Unfortunately, energy runs out pretty fast. My husband knows this about me, and so he never gives me a hard time about bowing out on housework. His understanding makes me try to be more accepting of him. Compassion is tricky in this day and age as we try to keep husbands from resting on the laurels of the patriarchy, but we can still find it.
In college I explored beauty standards and the domestic in the work I made. The first image in this post is a collage of etching, linocut, crayon rubbing and craft paper. I feel like it has classic art school student heavy handedness, but I still like its vibe.
To create the floppy fork below, I used clay to create a mold, then poured acrylic paint into it. I called it Diet Fork and attempted to eat mashed potatoes with it (impossible). A classmate told me my performance had made him queasy, so I guess it did its job as art. But, is it a painting or sculpture?
Similar articles
Outsmarting Task Paralysis
Why I started neurospicy housekeeping
Thank you for reading my blog about keeping house when you’re wired differently. I post here and on Substack, where I post an additional weekly paid newsletter. My book comes out in 2028.