Musing Over Consuming.

I am sitting in what will be my bedroom for only a few more days with little more than a futon, a duffle bag full of clothes, a backpack and a civilization of dust bunnies. After May 21st, I won't have a bedroom. Nearly all of my posessions sit in a 5'x10' storage space a few blocks away with limited access hours. Instead of the expected sensation of being in limbo, I am rather excited about these next couple of weeks to come. In fact, the feelings inside of me are similar to what I felt when I was a naive 22 year old heading out on the road to live out of my van for a couple of months. Hearing the echo of each tap of the keyboard in my emptied bedroom frees me.

It is a bit ironic that someone whose posessions can all fit in a tiny storage space writes a blog about consumerism. Of course, it isn't so odd when you read Consumatron for a while and realize that most of what I purchase is edible. It wasn't always that way. Not so long ago, I used to be a collector of the worst kind. I clung to every memory with tangible counterparts whether it was a life altering memory or a movie. I had to have every new special edition CD and DVD that was released regardless of whether or not I listened to or watched the original anymore. Go back a little further, I was a bit of a comic book nerd. Let's not get into special edition foil-embossed covers and limited publisher crossover series.

It all changed when I began to travel.

When I felt that freedom of waking up in a new place each day, I realized that I didn't need the newest gadgets or the shiniest toys. When you are on the move (whether you are on the road to the next state or the subway to your friend's couch), less is more. Memories seem to be carved a little deeper and new experiences are a language all their own.

Two days away from turning 27, I have reached a middle ground. I have a sizeable book collection that I struggle with every time I encounter the need to shrink it. Music is another vice that has an immense denisity in the form of vinyl records. Beyond that, I don't feel the need to have much. I don't have the plasma screen television or the sports car. Rarely do I buy a pair of shoes that cost me over $30 (though I do enjoy a good pair of PF Flyers every now and then). Books, records and clothes aside, the rest of my posessions tend to be tools of creation. Notebooks, pens, a camera and a computer. The literature and music provide the inspiration.

I suppose that is my current philosophy of consumerism. Buy to inspire and create, not to weigh you down and kill a part of you. Sure, I have my mementos, but rarely do they consist of a semi-professional aerial view of a city with colorful bubble letters of the location pasted over them. The shell on my windowsill reminds me of the walk I took on the beach and the waitress at the Chinese restaurant I flirted awkwardly with. The photos remind me of people no longer here. Some things have been lost, and that causes me to try even harder not to forget. Nothing weighs me down. Even loss of these mementos lifts me up.

There will be loss in my transition from loft-dweller to couch-crasher. None of it will be forgotten. As soon as I am given the opportunity, I plan on consuming and creating. Capturing the memories and continually moving forward.

Thanks to those of you who stuck with me through these quiet days. You didn't miss much. I ate at Eleven City Diner a lot, rented a storage space and bought a lot of coffee.

At least one review a day returns tomorrow. Full reviews of new purchases by next week. Previously Reviewed purchases won't have their own post each day anymore. Instead, I am going to edit the original review with the dates of purchase. Those of you who read the site on an RSS feed might see the updates, depending on your settings. Otherwise, the redundancy should be gone. This will force me to seek out new things to try and purchase and get to the bottom of whether or not these things serve to weigh us down or enable us to lift ourselves up.