I have too much stuff.
The problem with stuff is that it somehow becomes a case of the tail wagging the dog. Which is to say, eventually, you don't own stuff - stuff owns you.
When I was little I used to dream that living in a castle or mansion would be cool. Now that I am older and more experienced, I envy the people in the magazine ads that show a room with plain white walls, hardwood floors and one chair and lamp. Truly minimalist.
I suppose neither of those choices are realistic, I do like to have stuff, and I really don't think I could live happily at either of those extremes.
So, the way I see it, the problem lies in having just the right amount of stuff. Enough to fulfill the desire to own things, enough to do what I need it to do, but not so much that I have no room left to buy any more or that I would be unable to move it all if I had to.
Tools are a great example. You want to have the tools you need to do the work you want to do, but not so much that you have to buy more storage for tools you will never use. There is something elegant about having just the right amount instead of having lots, but not what you need.
I used to feel I should keep every book I ever bought and read. Magazines too. After a bit, it turned out that was a bad plan. I had to keep buying bookshelves that started to take over the house. Books are great, but not that great!
So I come to where I am today. Still with too much stuff, but learning to let things go, throw things away and pare things down. I wish I could say it is going well, but it is a slow process. I'm trying to only keep things that I need, or use. And trying to part with things that I don't need, but just wanted to own.
It's tough, but so far, I'm winning and the boxes of storage are getting smaller and I've (mostly!) stopped buying things just because I want them.
Tuesday, 31 May 2016
Monday, 30 May 2016
May 30, 2016
I really should dig out my camera.
One of the things that I am trying to do is reconnect with past interests, and one of my earliest interests was black and white film photography.
As it turns out, my dad was interested in photography as a young man. He even had his own set up for developing and printing his own film. I suspect that is a part of what motivated my brother to have an interest in photography. And, because I wanted to be like big brother, I gained an interest too.
Some of my earliest memories involving pictures include standing outside with my brother while our grandmother took our picture. I still have some of those pictures, on our trikes, standing side by side in the yard, and first day of school pictures.
My other early photographic memories involved looking at pictures stored in a box. Pictures of family members when they were younger, some pictures of me as a baby, and pictures of my brother.
So, when my brother joined the high school photo club, that was something I wanted to do too. In time, we both had cameras and took many pictures with them. My brother was more interested in photographing nature, I was more interested in people. Our dad helped us by building a small darkroom in the house - a place where we could develop film, and make our own black and white prints. When I finally got to join the high school photo club, I was already able to do the basics.
I never did get into doing my own colour work, although my brother did some of his own. I shot and printed a lot in high school, cut back a lot in university, and since then, have been sporadic in how much work I did with a camera.
My dad and brother are both gone now, but I still have their cameras - as well as a lot of equipment that we gathered over the years. Cameras range from half frame to four by five sheet film, as well as an enlarger that will handle those formats.
In addition to the equipment, I have what is most valuable to me; memories, and many pictures of my dad and brother. And the skills they taught me.
I think it's time to bond again with photography and, in do that, bond again with my dad and brother.
Now, where's the camera... and do they still make film?
One of the things that I am trying to do is reconnect with past interests, and one of my earliest interests was black and white film photography.
As it turns out, my dad was interested in photography as a young man. He even had his own set up for developing and printing his own film. I suspect that is a part of what motivated my brother to have an interest in photography. And, because I wanted to be like big brother, I gained an interest too.
Some of my earliest memories involving pictures include standing outside with my brother while our grandmother took our picture. I still have some of those pictures, on our trikes, standing side by side in the yard, and first day of school pictures.
My other early photographic memories involved looking at pictures stored in a box. Pictures of family members when they were younger, some pictures of me as a baby, and pictures of my brother.
So, when my brother joined the high school photo club, that was something I wanted to do too. In time, we both had cameras and took many pictures with them. My brother was more interested in photographing nature, I was more interested in people. Our dad helped us by building a small darkroom in the house - a place where we could develop film, and make our own black and white prints. When I finally got to join the high school photo club, I was already able to do the basics.
I never did get into doing my own colour work, although my brother did some of his own. I shot and printed a lot in high school, cut back a lot in university, and since then, have been sporadic in how much work I did with a camera.
My dad and brother are both gone now, but I still have their cameras - as well as a lot of equipment that we gathered over the years. Cameras range from half frame to four by five sheet film, as well as an enlarger that will handle those formats.
In addition to the equipment, I have what is most valuable to me; memories, and many pictures of my dad and brother. And the skills they taught me.
I think it's time to bond again with photography and, in do that, bond again with my dad and brother.
Now, where's the camera... and do they still make film?
Sunday, 29 May 2016
May 29, 2016
I love my job.
I realize that isn't the case for everyone, even though we've all been told at one point to 'do what you love, and you'll never have to work.'
That's true. The first time I tried doing what I do was in the fall of 1980, at university. I had no idea what I was doing, no real direction, no one to mentor me, but I fell in love with it. Too much maybe.
I never did graduate from university, I spent too much time hanging out with my new love, and the oddball cast of characters that congregated there. Characters that are still my friends today. So I guess the time and money spent at university weren't wasted.
Your life changes after university, mostly in better ways. But life can be bittersweet. Friends drift away, relationships come and go, and eventually people in your life start to die.
But they only leave your life in the physical, here and now, sense. You always carry part of them in your heart, and in your memories. Physically, we still have photographs and mementos.
If you are lucky, those past experiences can shore you up at times you feel like you're falling. Or give you a foundation to build your life and love upon.
I've been very lucky, my family gave me so much to build upon - memories, examples of a life lived well. Not rich, but well. They are physically gone now, leaving me the last surviving member of my immediate family. But it's a rare day that I don't think of them.
I'm in a great relationship now - actually two relationships. One with the most amazing woman, and the other is a relationship that goes back to the fall of 1980. And the first time I sat in the chair in the student union building in front of a microphone at the campus radio station.
I'll be doing that today, probably less that a mile away from that first experience. The only changes are that now I get paid, have less hair and (hopefully) have gotten better.
I get to go play radio today. I love my job.
I realize that isn't the case for everyone, even though we've all been told at one point to 'do what you love, and you'll never have to work.'
That's true. The first time I tried doing what I do was in the fall of 1980, at university. I had no idea what I was doing, no real direction, no one to mentor me, but I fell in love with it. Too much maybe.
I never did graduate from university, I spent too much time hanging out with my new love, and the oddball cast of characters that congregated there. Characters that are still my friends today. So I guess the time and money spent at university weren't wasted.
Your life changes after university, mostly in better ways. But life can be bittersweet. Friends drift away, relationships come and go, and eventually people in your life start to die.
But they only leave your life in the physical, here and now, sense. You always carry part of them in your heart, and in your memories. Physically, we still have photographs and mementos.
If you are lucky, those past experiences can shore you up at times you feel like you're falling. Or give you a foundation to build your life and love upon.
I've been very lucky, my family gave me so much to build upon - memories, examples of a life lived well. Not rich, but well. They are physically gone now, leaving me the last surviving member of my immediate family. But it's a rare day that I don't think of them.
I'm in a great relationship now - actually two relationships. One with the most amazing woman, and the other is a relationship that goes back to the fall of 1980. And the first time I sat in the chair in the student union building in front of a microphone at the campus radio station.
I'll be doing that today, probably less that a mile away from that first experience. The only changes are that now I get paid, have less hair and (hopefully) have gotten better.
I get to go play radio today. I love my job.
Friday, 27 May 2016
May 27, 2016
I shave everyday - but that wasn't always the case.
Starting in high school, I would take 'shaving vacations' starting maybe in December and lasting until April. Not exactly a winter beard, but pretty close. I used to find that by the time April would roll around, I was pretty tired of having a beard.
I stopped doing that after I noticed that I was getting more grey each year. A little was ok, but I was getting more than a little. So shaving is now a daily ritual.
About a year ago, I started getting more interested in the products available for shaving. I had been quite content for many years using what was basically my grandfather's setup: Palmolive shave cream and a safety razor. After I couldn't get the Palmolive locally, I switched to using cans of goo with mixed feelings. I missed using a brush, and could never get just the right amount of product. And there I stagnated.
Until last year, when I started searching for tubes of Palmolive shave cream. Pretty innocent, but I quickly found several online retailers and websites supplying and touting the whole process of wet shaving. While I know, in the back of my mind, that there were more products out there than I was interested in, I was surprised by how many different manufacturers there are of shaving gear.
After a few days (weeks) of reading, browsing and frowning at some of the comments and how many disciples there are of the church of wet shaving, desire took over. Was there a best shaving cream? What about razor blades? Look at all the different kinds (and sizes) of brushes! And scents - where to start?
Eventually, I calmed down and started to think about what it was I wanted to change, in what order, and at what cost. While I don't mind paying the price for better products, I had very little experience in the variety of products available. And variety may be too small a word - on the internet, you can find and have access to products from all over the world.
So, I decided to start small, shaving cream. That was what started this particular adventure, so it should make a good beginning. The first package that came to the mailbox was Taylor of Old Bond Street Sandalwood shaving cream.
I have to say, I absolutely fell in love with it! Easy to use, creamy and a very pleasant scent. But... what do the other creams feel like? And what about different interpretations of sandalwood?
Package number two is Geo F Trumper Sandalwood shave cream. Different texture, and a lighter scent. Very easy to use, but overall I think I prefer the Taylor of Old Bond Street. Fortunately these are consumables, so I can work my way through them without waste and in a leisurely fashion.
There are still more Sandalwood creams to try, I haven't even considered soaps yet, let alone razor blades. This could turn a morning ritual into something more engaging and interesting than just a chore to get through to be presentable for the day. I think I'm going to have fun!
Oh, and the Palmolive that stated this quest - they were out.
Starting in high school, I would take 'shaving vacations' starting maybe in December and lasting until April. Not exactly a winter beard, but pretty close. I used to find that by the time April would roll around, I was pretty tired of having a beard.
I stopped doing that after I noticed that I was getting more grey each year. A little was ok, but I was getting more than a little. So shaving is now a daily ritual.
About a year ago, I started getting more interested in the products available for shaving. I had been quite content for many years using what was basically my grandfather's setup: Palmolive shave cream and a safety razor. After I couldn't get the Palmolive locally, I switched to using cans of goo with mixed feelings. I missed using a brush, and could never get just the right amount of product. And there I stagnated.
Until last year, when I started searching for tubes of Palmolive shave cream. Pretty innocent, but I quickly found several online retailers and websites supplying and touting the whole process of wet shaving. While I know, in the back of my mind, that there were more products out there than I was interested in, I was surprised by how many different manufacturers there are of shaving gear.
After a few days (weeks) of reading, browsing and frowning at some of the comments and how many disciples there are of the church of wet shaving, desire took over. Was there a best shaving cream? What about razor blades? Look at all the different kinds (and sizes) of brushes! And scents - where to start?
Eventually, I calmed down and started to think about what it was I wanted to change, in what order, and at what cost. While I don't mind paying the price for better products, I had very little experience in the variety of products available. And variety may be too small a word - on the internet, you can find and have access to products from all over the world.
So, I decided to start small, shaving cream. That was what started this particular adventure, so it should make a good beginning. The first package that came to the mailbox was Taylor of Old Bond Street Sandalwood shaving cream.
I have to say, I absolutely fell in love with it! Easy to use, creamy and a very pleasant scent. But... what do the other creams feel like? And what about different interpretations of sandalwood?
Package number two is Geo F Trumper Sandalwood shave cream. Different texture, and a lighter scent. Very easy to use, but overall I think I prefer the Taylor of Old Bond Street. Fortunately these are consumables, so I can work my way through them without waste and in a leisurely fashion.
There are still more Sandalwood creams to try, I haven't even considered soaps yet, let alone razor blades. This could turn a morning ritual into something more engaging and interesting than just a chore to get through to be presentable for the day. I think I'm going to have fun!
Oh, and the Palmolive that stated this quest - they were out.
Thursday, 26 May 2016
May 26, 2016
I may have overestimated how much it would cost to replace my nearly forty year old pen. Research on eBay shows several examples from $20 to over $100 for used and new Parker Flighter 45 GT. Apparently the 'GT' stands for gold trim.
I still don't feel right about simply replacing my old pen with exactly the same pen. Somehow, it feels like if I do that, I would disrespect the great service that pen gave me. Silly, I know - but it's been said that you can never go home again. Perhaps that's true as well for items that have become more than just a tool to do a job, but have instead become an extension of you. Showing it's own scars and having it's own, shared, story.
My current think is to find a new pen. One that comes new in it's package, ready to be slipped into a pocket and unmarked for now. There is something optimistic about a new pen - what jobs will it be asked to do aside for the mundane. Will I use it to sign cheques for large purchases? I know I will use it to fill out paperwork at work. Grocery lists? Love notes? The weekly grocery list?
It looks like a TWSBI ballpoint might be a good fit. I know I will like how it puts ink on the page since it uses Parker refills. But how will it feel in the hand? Is it well balanced? Will I enjoy writing with it? I suppose the only way to find out is to try to find one.
Unless something else shiny come my way.
I still don't feel right about simply replacing my old pen with exactly the same pen. Somehow, it feels like if I do that, I would disrespect the great service that pen gave me. Silly, I know - but it's been said that you can never go home again. Perhaps that's true as well for items that have become more than just a tool to do a job, but have instead become an extension of you. Showing it's own scars and having it's own, shared, story.
My current think is to find a new pen. One that comes new in it's package, ready to be slipped into a pocket and unmarked for now. There is something optimistic about a new pen - what jobs will it be asked to do aside for the mundane. Will I use it to sign cheques for large purchases? I know I will use it to fill out paperwork at work. Grocery lists? Love notes? The weekly grocery list?
It looks like a TWSBI ballpoint might be a good fit. I know I will like how it puts ink on the page since it uses Parker refills. But how will it feel in the hand? Is it well balanced? Will I enjoy writing with it? I suppose the only way to find out is to try to find one.
Unless something else shiny come my way.
Wednesday, 25 May 2016
May 25, 2016
I need a pen.
That may not sound like much of a problem, after all, I have a box full of pens. But....
The problem is that I have small handwriting, so anything that leaves a large line just looks like ink blobs on the page with only ascenders and descenders to hint at what the word may be. When I first discovered mechanical pencils with 0.5mm lead, I was happy that I finally had something that wrote finely enough for me. Unfortunately, schoolwork often had to be passed in written in ink.
I struggled with ballpoint pens, looking for one that had a fine enough tip and reliable ink flow. Did I mention I also have a very light hand and don't press hard on the paper? For a while, I even tried fountain pens - they certainly wrote wet enough.
Eventually I tried fine tip ballpoint pens, but they needed me to press a little harder to write without skipping. Of course, using cheap paper for school also meant that the pen would pick up paper fibers and develop a blobby look on the page, or worse, leave an ink hairball.
By High School, I had settled on Parker pens as my go-to writing tool. My only complaint was that I would sometimes sit on them, and break the plastic barrel. So, in 1979, I bought a stainless steel Parker with gold trim. Unlike other pens that had a button on top, this one was cap actuated. At last, I had a pen that I truly enjoyed using and owning.
That pen got me through High School, University, and running a business. Except now, 37 years later, I seem to have worn it out. The cap won't stay on, often falling off and allowing the spring to pop free. The gold has worn away from the clip, but the stainless steel barrel still looks good!
I suppose I could just look online and find an exact replacement. Except, it wouldn't really be an exact replacement - it would be a new pen, that just happened to be like my old pen. I have looked, and it appears that the closest I can find is a Parker Flighter ballpoint. At this writing, I could get one around $90.
I'm not sure I want to replace it with one that looks the same. After all, I have managed to hang on to this one for nearly forty years! Somehow, I would feel like I was betraying an old friend - one that lived in my pocket on nearly a daily basis for that long.
So, I think it's time to find my next pen - the one that will live in my pocket for (hopefully) the next forty years. Online research, here I come.
Oh, and that box full of pens I have? The result of pens being tried, or left behind by others, or acquired while in business. Some have company names on them, some were 'won' in the game of 'can I steal this pen from the salesman?' And all of them, very cheap.
That may not sound like much of a problem, after all, I have a box full of pens. But....
The problem is that I have small handwriting, so anything that leaves a large line just looks like ink blobs on the page with only ascenders and descenders to hint at what the word may be. When I first discovered mechanical pencils with 0.5mm lead, I was happy that I finally had something that wrote finely enough for me. Unfortunately, schoolwork often had to be passed in written in ink.
I struggled with ballpoint pens, looking for one that had a fine enough tip and reliable ink flow. Did I mention I also have a very light hand and don't press hard on the paper? For a while, I even tried fountain pens - they certainly wrote wet enough.
Eventually I tried fine tip ballpoint pens, but they needed me to press a little harder to write without skipping. Of course, using cheap paper for school also meant that the pen would pick up paper fibers and develop a blobby look on the page, or worse, leave an ink hairball.
By High School, I had settled on Parker pens as my go-to writing tool. My only complaint was that I would sometimes sit on them, and break the plastic barrel. So, in 1979, I bought a stainless steel Parker with gold trim. Unlike other pens that had a button on top, this one was cap actuated. At last, I had a pen that I truly enjoyed using and owning.
That pen got me through High School, University, and running a business. Except now, 37 years later, I seem to have worn it out. The cap won't stay on, often falling off and allowing the spring to pop free. The gold has worn away from the clip, but the stainless steel barrel still looks good!
I suppose I could just look online and find an exact replacement. Except, it wouldn't really be an exact replacement - it would be a new pen, that just happened to be like my old pen. I have looked, and it appears that the closest I can find is a Parker Flighter ballpoint. At this writing, I could get one around $90.
I'm not sure I want to replace it with one that looks the same. After all, I have managed to hang on to this one for nearly forty years! Somehow, I would feel like I was betraying an old friend - one that lived in my pocket on nearly a daily basis for that long.
So, I think it's time to find my next pen - the one that will live in my pocket for (hopefully) the next forty years. Online research, here I come.
Oh, and that box full of pens I have? The result of pens being tried, or left behind by others, or acquired while in business. Some have company names on them, some were 'won' in the game of 'can I steal this pen from the salesman?' And all of them, very cheap.
Tuesday, 24 May 2016
May 24, 2016
I turned 55 this year, and like most people, I've had my ups and downs. This year seems like a good one, but I have been thinking about things I have yet to do, or have let fall by the wayside. I suppose it's part of the realization that I have (probably!) passed the halfway point in life.
Part of that has to do with the fact that I have been alive longer than either my mom or brother, 53, and 54, respectively, when they passed. So, I suppose it is only natural to reflect on what is behind me in life, as well as what is ahead of me.
I still have dreams and goals, some very 'pie in the sky' and some far more prosaic. I wouldn't call them Bucket List items, that's too lofty a term; opportunities, maybe is the word I want. Opportunities to just jump in the car and drive to see where I end up; the opportunity to ride in a hot-air balloon, or just to wander around with a camera to see what I can see.
I've chosen to call this blog 'Driven' because I love to drive - my commute for work is 75.5km each way. And because, at age 55, I find myself to be more driven - not in the goal-driven sense, but to do more, to be better, to get better. Perhaps even to live better.
Honestly, I can't wait to see what is next!
Part of that has to do with the fact that I have been alive longer than either my mom or brother, 53, and 54, respectively, when they passed. So, I suppose it is only natural to reflect on what is behind me in life, as well as what is ahead of me.
I still have dreams and goals, some very 'pie in the sky' and some far more prosaic. I wouldn't call them Bucket List items, that's too lofty a term; opportunities, maybe is the word I want. Opportunities to just jump in the car and drive to see where I end up; the opportunity to ride in a hot-air balloon, or just to wander around with a camera to see what I can see.
I've chosen to call this blog 'Driven' because I love to drive - my commute for work is 75.5km each way. And because, at age 55, I find myself to be more driven - not in the goal-driven sense, but to do more, to be better, to get better. Perhaps even to live better.
Honestly, I can't wait to see what is next!
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