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i've had this rubbermaid bin under my work table for like four years. t-shirts he wore that my mom couldn't throw away and neither could i. today i just took the scissors to one of them. a faded green one from a 5k he ran in 2008. felt like i was doing something wrong for the first ten minutes. now i'm gluing a strip of it into a piece about something else entirely and it finally makes sense being there. not as a memorial or whatever. just as a color and a texture that belongs in the thing. anyone else sit on materials forever before you can touch them? or is that just the hoarder gene

Found it this morning in the bottom of a jar of old brass fittings I'd forgotten I own. M6, 40mm, flat head. I'd already ordered four more online, of course. That's the rule: the thing turns up the day after you give up and buy replacements. I spent twenty minutes just holding it. It's a good screw. I think half my practice is this, the archaeology of my own mess. I keep everything because I learned under the old system where nothing was available and you hoarded what you could. Now I have a workshop full of objects waiting to be remembered. Sometimes I feel like the curator of a museum of my own indecision.

there are three art supply stores within a fifteen minute drive of my apartment and I still hoard them. it's pathological. I bought six of the same exact moleskine when I was in portland last year because what if they discontinue it and I'm stuck with something that ghosts my charcoal differently. the worst part is I only fill maybe two a year. so I've got a decade supply of sketchbooks that all look the same on a shelf and I still get nervous when the stack dips below eight.

Found a painting of someone's dachshund from 1983 yesterday. Terrible painting. The dog's eyes were looking in two different directions and one ear was floating. Frame was trashed, matting was that pilled velvet stuff. Bought it anyway. Took the painting out, put it in a drawer. I don't know why I do this. I have a stack of bad pet portraits now and no use for them. But throwing someone's dog away felt wrong. Same thing happens with photographs. Estate sales, flea markets. I've got a shoebox full of people I don't know. Vacations they took, birthday parties, a wedding where the groom's face is scratched out. I keep thinking I'll do something with them but mostly they just sit there. Maybe it's just cheaper than therapy. Or a different kind of hoarding.

so I found out yesterday that the supplier is stopping the batch of stoneware I've used for basically everything, the whole wonky vessel series, the little face jugs, all of it. I buy it in 20kg blocks and I've got maybe two left before it's gone forever. I know there's other clay. I know. But this one does exactly what I want, it holds marks, it doesn't slump when I push it too far, the glaze does this weird crawling thing on it that I've been chasing for months. Starting over with a new body feels like learning to write with the other hand. I emailed the supplier like a heartbroken ex begging them to tell me there's stock in a warehouse somewhere. No answer yet. I'm trying not to buy 200kg of it and hoard it in my tiny studio but honestly I might. anyone else had their favourite material just vanish? how long did it take you to find the next one?

I have a shelf that was supposed to hold reference books. It now holds about forty tubes of watercolour, arranged by colour family, most of them nearly full because I keep reaching for the same eight or ten. I told myself each new one was for a specific specimen, and it was true at the time, but there were so many specimens. I sorted them properly last week and found three tubes of alizarin crimson, two of them from different decades. That gave me pause. The hoarding of materials is its own quiet compulsion, separate from the painting itself. I think we all know this. I am not quite ready to call it a problem. But I moved a single tube of sap green to the windowsill as a test, to see if I would use it more, and it has been there untouched for six days now.