Cosmic Dust Once, Too.
(A corner in my apartment where some of my paintings are displayed, space for my readings, and home to my lifeless companion click here for my other paintings: http://www.flickr.com/photos/16275015@N04/ )
It was my day off from work yesterday so I cleaned my apartment. Cleaning my space means renewal to me ~ I just don’t rearrange the furnitures, I’m rearranging my life.
Clearing my space from clutters and throwing objects that are not working takes so much of my time when cleaning. It’s just so hard to decide and let go of something that worked well for awhile. So I have this area for objects I can’t let go for now. But once this part of the cleaning is done, everything else are easier to do.
Next, I blow or should I say kiss the cosmic dusts out of my place, and off they go to reunite with the stars. Dusts are once part of our bodies that we scrub off. They unite with other particles to become cosmic dusts and one day find its way to the stars. We all once belong to the stars, we are cosmic dusts and to the stars we will all return. Cleaning my room, cosmic dusts ~ look where it brought me?
Tiny long-legged spiders weave their webs in the ceiling and secluded corners of my apartment. If I don’t clean regularly, I’m afraid they would put up a village in my apartment and they’re my most unwelcomed guests. But somehow, these little creatures serve their purpose of reminding me to clean up.
Woven insect traps
On window of misty dawn
Catch the slant sunlight.
Cleaning makes me find lost objects. It is surprising how things get into some corners and find them when I’m not even looking. I remember my frustrations not finding it when needed, only to discover that it was here all along.
The closet is the most interesting space to clean and arrange, there’s poetry in its every corner like my heart, my closet.
I need to clear my closet of my past.
‘Tis muddled like a clumsy poetry.
Emancipation frees my self at last.
A closet cleaned is like a heart that’s free.
While cleaning out my closet’s shelves today,
I found some things too good for me to toss.
I’ll keep them, they might be of use some day.
My reveries veer and back to my muse.
It’s hard for me to let go and forget you,
For I am like a ship, you anchored me.
I know that you are always good as new,
So in my core I place your memory.
You are safe here, though I don’t know how long.
You are my home, my heart’s where you belong.
Rearranging furnitures is what I like best. It makes the significant mark in the cleaning. It is amusing to think that when I finish arranging things, I always thought that everything are in place. But a week later, some objects just seem off and out of place in the total look of my space: could be the color, the shape, the angle. I always find faults in my own making. This explains that nothing really remains constant in life. However perfect we perceived something at one point, time changes things and so is the way we look at them.
Something has changed in me in every passing of time. I move forward, I let go, leave something behind and take something with me everytime. I accept freshness, I’m still me, but renewed. It occurs to me just now, cleaning my apartment could also mean cleaning my self from clutters of unwanted thoughts, clearing my mind from cobwebs of worries, rearranging my life and letting go of obsolute ideas to embrace a fresh and better perspective.
Cleaning my apartment and becoming a cosmic dust ~ I’m with the stars. I’m home.