Wandering in a minimalist direction

Still purging. Still have books. Many more CDs.

I'm planning a theoretical move. What would I take if I were limited to a car? Theoretical as I don't own a car.

I've spent an obscene amount of time reading (are you ready for this?) style blogs. And home design blogs. What I learned for free was I dislike visual excess, don't need a suit and likely could do without 80 percent of what I own. I also learned that I am sentimental. I have things, "mere things, just stuff," as the minimal bloggers say, that I do, in fact love, have valued stories and serve as doorways to a past I'm likely to ignore.

I won't rid myself of a small table my grandfather built. I won't give away signed books or CDs, or books related to my calling. I have a box of tie dyes made by my ex-husband. I'll keep the ones I still have. I'm even using them again, after a two-year break.
I have two metal folding chairs of an earlier vintage than I am. They graced performances at the Denver Folklore Center, and later Swallow Hill Music Association for some 50 years. Three years ago, a higher-up at Swallow Hill decided they were not worth bringing back to the building after a summer concert series. I brought them home and used them as my dining chairs. If I ever have to give them up, I know people who want them.

For now, I know what table would be in my new home. And two of the chairs. And I'd have a futon, a real futon, again.

I've gotten clothing under control, and I'm really condensing what I own there, while not giving up functionality.
I'm giving up absurd imagined selves, out-of-sync perceptions of myself, and I'm no longer clothing a future or past me. Liberating! I even have empty drawers and lots of open space on the hanger rod.