Working on the Unified Theory of Stuff has been a fun exercise. Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm quite the minimalist. Not from an anti-consumerism perspective, but from a lots-of-shit-everywhere-stresses-me-out perspective.

As an artist and artisan, I have a natural fondness for the minimal – a piece should contain only what it needs, no more.

I told a friend my dream is to live in a big, white warehouse, only taking things out when they are to be used, and swiftly stowing them away when they're not. Half jokingly...but half not.

“Stuff”, “clutter”, “possessions” – however you want to label them – absolutely must earn their way into my life.

If the thing doesn't make my life better – no, much better – and make me happy, it's gone.

In my world all “stuff” is unmercifully pruned. Meticulously cut. Given to charity, recycled, or simply thrown out without the slightest emotional reaction or second thought.

So, yeah. This overarching principle – we'll call it “Earn Your Keep” for now – is where I'll start fleshing out my beloved Theory and its tenets.

#minimalism #theory

Any good, respectable theory needs tenets. Here we go:

As previously established, “stuff” you allow into your life should be very useful and meaningful.

Done? Let's drill down a little deeper.

Space is an issue. Not sure about you, but in my neck of the woods shit's too big (and too complicated, but that's for another post.) Too much. Too much space, too much fluff. Too much complexity. Too much shit that's sole purpose is to prove something about the owner rather that serve said owner.

If we're truly concerned about the planet and environment we'll downsize. Not going to put my money on it happening on a grand scale, but that's the only idea I got.

We can't live in these huge, plastic, underinsulated castles and expect our prospects to improve. Thirty-three-hundred square feet is an obnoxious amount of space for a family of four. Thirty-three-hundred square feet to cool in summer. Thirty-three-hundred square feet to heat in winter. Thirty-three-hundred square feet to clean, maintain, and fill with useless garbage, lest it looks “sparse”.

Stuff that “serves”, serves best when it can be tucked into a tiny space. It's diminutively efficient. In other words, it packs a crap-load of value into a tiny little package.

Small Shoes

The project you see above is my first attempt at making my own shoes. I'm blessed to live in the tropics, so I fortunately can rock the thinnest, smallest shoes that get the job done, ya know?

My goal was to have the least amount of material possible. I'd go barefoot everywhere if I could, but unfortunately health codes and our lawsuit-happy culture prohibit me from doing so.

The only goal here was that these thingies resembled shoes. To the casual observer, they'd look like respectable foot coverings. I chose leather because it's a gorgeous, malleable, forgiving, natural, f-n awesome material (which I'll get into more depth about later).

Not only would they get me a pass in polite company, they would pack into a laptop bag for easy transport.

No, they won't protect my feet from thorns, snakes, or other dangers in the natural world.

But in my opinion it's not your shoes' job to protect you from these things. That's your brain's job.

#minimalism #shoes #tenets