I'm clearing all the crap out of my room (Laura Marling)

Minimalism. Less is more. Spring cleaning in the northern hemisphere (and if you're reading the Guardian's special features).

I've been engaged in my own simplify, simplify regime of late, even though it's autumn. 

In a former life, I may have been a cicada, or a snake, or some other animal that sheds it's skin. 

I'm a fan of decluttering.

Currently I'm working through my CDs and placing them into one of three categories: 

1. The loved ones I am apt to return to often. I can't begin to count how many times I've played Big Country's Live Without A Net. 
2. These are not to be confused with classics that are sacrosanct, they appear in the second category - I may not play them often but I need them around just in case. Led Zeppelin. I loved the vinyl and bought the CD reissues but over-familiarity is a bastard.
3. That leaves category three - the ones I don't play often, nor need around particularly. The CD I read a review of and bought but was disappointed by, the one I bought out of loyalty to the band that was a dog but I hung onto it anyway because you never know, I may return to it in ten year's time and find a buried treasure (hello David Gray). 

I decided to play every CD. I figured if I had to fast forward a lot or couldn't be arsed (I've noticed a few ECM esoteric European jazz CDs being added to pile 3) then I didn't need them cluttering up the shelves.

Decluttering appears to be in vogue. It seems every second best seller is expounding on the joy of tidying.

Japanese author and 'organising consultant' Marie Kondo is one such example. She advocates keeping only things that 'spark joy'. As she says, "human beings can only truly cherish a limited number of things at one time".

Which justifies my putting Motorhead's No Sleep Till Hammersmith into category three baby!


Love and peace - Wozza