Did minimalism ever go out of fashion or do we just apply it to our lives in time of crisis forever in hope of the start of our personal Springtime? In stripping our lifes and hearts of our proverbial clutter do we hope to find our true self or does that end up in the trash with everything else? Are we the sum of our clutter or the bones of our disenchanted minimalism?
Is life & love a perpetual state of hoarding clutter and stripping back to the skeleton? Do we ever find an inbetween?
How many times do we resolve to find a new 'me' and with that me a whole new 'you'. You can paint the walls back to white but the chipped plaster will always be underneath.
We empty closets of old skeletons and unworn dresses only to re-fill them with new.