Addiction, Part Deux...

So I've concluded that I'm a shopaholic because obtaining my fix is just too easy, and I can satisfy my creative urges more quickly by buying instead of making my own. It would seem that I've endowed a piece of cloth with human characteristics. Given life to a thing that is, granted, a basic need, but still just a nonsentient thing. I've expected these things to make a difference on the inside when they are nothing more than beautiful adornments for the outside. And really, do they give any meaning to life other than to satisfy the wearer? Now that I realize what I've been doing, I feel shallow and stupid. When I think about the problems and desperate needs of our world, I realize it makes me shallow (and probably stupid). Now, don't get me wrong, the appreciation and acquiring of fashion isn't a bad thing unless it gets out-of-line like mine has. Everyone has their interests, and anything can go from interest to habit to obsession when it impinges on the important things in life. I've always believed that things don't just happen--there is a reason for everything that happens in our lives. Maybe we chose our path or maybe it was chosen for us. Nevertheless, that path has a purpose. Hopefully, we choose to give it meaning and thus fulfill that purpose. So in pondering this addiction of mine, I can't say that the past year has been in vain. I might not have understood it. I might keep traveling the same path over and over. But in previous trips, I haven't had the luxury of this much time for self-examination. Now that I do, how can I ignore what I've learned? How can I not make the changes? Why haven't I made these changes earlier? And have I ever really made a difference anywhere?

Thinking is not nearly as much fun as shopping.

To be continued...

(Image used is "Untitled" by artist Lauren Gray. Her shop is TheHauntedHollowTree found at Etsy. She does delicately textured figurative work in muted tones. More can be found at her blog thehauntedhollowtree.blogspot.com)