When Something Falls By Kaylee Koss

I don't consider myself a particularly messy person, compared to the general public- when you compare my desk to the general condition of the desks in my studio, objectivity (albeit without subjective informative discourse) would perhaps hold my hand and slowly try to coax me away from such cognitive dissonance. But I know where everything is! So although it is a bit…cluttered, at least there is an organization to the whole, though it may be beyond mere human observation. This is fine- well, tolerable- for desk- and countertops, but my floor is covered in sawdust. I'd like to say it's nostalgia for old pubs, but it's really just because I don't sweep. It works well to absorb pools of liquid from knocked-over containers on the cluttered desk and counter tops, but it's hell when trying to find a screw, nut or othersuch trifle that has slipped from your gnarled grasp. Now, it's no easier when this happens out in a field, looking for a contact lense or a key in the middle of the woods. And the same maxim applies: When something falls, don't try and catch it. Watch where it falls so you can pick it up. The point is not to keep something from falling. Things will fall. Some things break. Very few things break irreparably, have you the inclination or the wherewithal to attend to their mending. The more important thing, I would think, is not losing them, when they could still be so useful. Irreplaceable even. Your first inclination is to reach out and try to catch it before it completes its natural trajectory. Whenever I try this, I just end up tripping over something, or am so concentrated on my hand that my ego doesn't allow me to focus on the subject of my attention- the thing falling. And so it falls anyway, but without someone watching where it went, to pick it back up again. So keep yourself out of the picture, and just be there to pick the damned thing back up. And it wouldn't kill me to sweep up a bit.