White

Living at the confluence of the flows of stuff, I have wondered what it would be like living in house that looks like a house that on occasion I have seen in architectural magazines: a stark white room with a single white sofa, one floor lamp in chrome and glass on a wood floor with an entire wall of glass revealing a wooded expanse beyond.

Is this the acme of the monastic, contemplative life: no television, no books, no dog, not even a place to put a drink except on the floor? Why not strip the room of every thing but white? How would that be different? Is this a prison or a statement of consummate self completeness? I wonder if the person who would live there would have a dingy, dark place in the middle of some urban blight where they live the rest of their life? What is the threshold between too little and too much? I have on occasion commented that my ideal living situation would be a small house and a big out building, but that is my life. I have a friend who is an academic and I do not even know if he owns a hammer or screwdriver and could easily get along without a garage. He lives in a medium small house in a well kept urban neighborhood in a medium sized town in the Midwest. He has an office and I suppose he keeps the clutter there. I will have to invite myself in some time.

Some years ago I was aware of the nomads of Africa who own no more than they could carry themselves. Is owning stuff the acme to be pursued or the chaos before life changes? Most of us become accustomed, habituated to our circumstances, sentimentally attached to our previous lives. Is it possible to live in a white room on a white sofa next to chrome and glass floor lamp on a wood floor looking out (or not) of a glass wall? I have this sudden vision of scores of people in this room dressed well, eating well, earnestly engaged in intense but casual intercourse.

It occurs to me as I look up at all of the books around, some of which are used and some of which despite their lack of use I can not or do not shed, most of which seem at least interesting, below the row dvds, left to right are Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Complete Tales of Edgar Alan Poe, Thesaurus, Spanish Dictionary, Codes and Ciphers, DVD & Video Guide 2005, Guide Book of United States Coins, an MRS propane camping stove, The Twelve Terrors of Christmas, Field Guide Matchbox, Familiar Birds of North America, Field Guide to American Wildlife, Game Animals, Ground Cover, trees (yes a book), a bottle of baby aspirin, A Field Guide to Trees and Shrubs, Rocks and Minerals, Rocks and Minerals (same name, different book), Seashells, Seashells of North America, American Clocks, and Watch & Clock Repair. I had a friend years ago whose parents’ house I would visit occasionally: well kept, pleasant, and comfortable. There was not a book to be seen. I went for years before I realized this, but only in retrospect did it seem odd.

And now?