You know what I've done more of than anything else over the last couple of days? Laundry. Got on a laundry roll, and cleaned every dirty item we had on hand. The plus? We now have many nice things to wear. The minus? Doing laundry, as much as I enjoy the (illusory) sensation of having accomplished something that accompanies it, really is about the least intellectually stimulating activity around.
The laundry-doing is part of an overall low-energy push to get the house into some real kind of order. Both Yesenia and I are packrats who never deal with anything in front of us when it first presents itself. So things pile up, unfiled, and entire rooms are given over to piles of items whose classification is stamped 'T.B.D.' As it turns out, living this way really does contribute to a freeform, low-level glumness.
But many of those piles contain gold; or at least the Proustian equivalent of gold. I know I've been promising the arrival of the new Copper Man site for some time (close to two years, now), but I've been having such a fun time with the web stuff I've been doing lately that perhaps that will carry over to a much-needed site of my own? I'd also like to parlay some of that energy into a P.C.M.A. site, which will be much more simple and streamlined, given that it's just going to serve as an online brochure with some songs. The Copper Man site promises to be crazy big, an unwieldy collection of almost everything I've been about over the past nearly four decades, somehow organized into an easy to navigate whole.
Which is far easier said than done, since we're talking about crap that's been lying around in unexamined piles since the mid-80's, in some cases. Every time I go into the attic to move something around, I stumble across something that just has to go up here.
Seriously, there's a lot of crap to draw from in the archives. A scanner-melting volume of work. Anyhow, it seems like sorting, scanning and filing will take me quite some time - I've never been one of those people who just scans along at a brisk clip. A real handicap for a graphic artist and illustrator, I tell you.