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The Comforts of Clutter

  • October 17, 2020

Except for my writing desk, where books, manuscripts, index cards and journals are piled in random fashion, I have always disliked clutter. I grew up in a large, chaotic household; at any time of day or night, someone was entertaining a friend or watching television or fixing a snack or hammering at a woodworking project.

The bubbles of activity generated a lot of clutter, which I associated with noise and turbulence. So when I moved out of my parents’ house, I sought out quiet, spare spaces.

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