How it began.
A long time ago when I was about 5, my family’s house caught on fire and we lost everything. Being 5, I didn’t realize what all of that meant. I only knew that my fave orange teddy bear and plastic Snoopy doll were gone. I missed them at night especially. About 7 years later we lost the house again (my dad rebuilt it after the fire, yes I helped too), when my parents could no longer afford it. We had to go from a 2 story house to a 2 bedroom apartment. Did I mention my mom is a pack rat? Well anyway. After that traumatic event I started to hoard boxes. I was always anxious that where we lived was only temporary and that we would have to leave soon.
I realized one day that I was a box hoarder when I looked under my bed and saw all of the boxes I’d kept from the things I’d bought over the years. Small boxes, just small enough to be hidden, but still useful, just in case I had to leave in a hurry. Because when your house burns down or you get foreclosed on, you have to leave in a hurry.
Later on in life, I’m still doing the same thing. Now I’ve gotten a bit more crafty in hiding this reality from myself. My trick is out of sight out of mind. Since I can break down bigger boxes, I just flatten them and stick them in places where I can’t see them(behind headboards, bookshelves, in between a wall and an appliance), but feel secure in that they are there. I keep the boxes from all of my electronics, and we know a cell phone shelf life is about 6 months to a year, at least for me. I have a box full of smaller boxes. I keep this box full of boxes usually hidden under a sheet and use it as a prop for my paintings.
Some people collect knickknacks and cds. I collect boxes. Does anyone have a couch and 4, 60 minute sessions for me?