I often run across descriptions of life that intrigue me. In reading a book by Jonathan Franzen, I saw this sentence: “The old playroom in the basement, still dehumidified and carpeted and pine-paneled, still nice, was afflicted with the necrosis of clutter that sooner or later kills a living space: stereo boxes, geometric Styrofoam, packing solids, outdated ski and beach gear in random drifts.” (The Corrections, 168)

Along with my love for alliteration, I am also fascinated by the description “necrosis of clutter”. Necrosis refers to the death of cells due to lack of blood supply. I am sitting here at my computer imagining a couple of piles on my desk. I think of the books lining the walls of my study. Is my office “afflicted with the necrosis of clutter”? Are these items just dust collectors who are dying because of lack of blood supply. When they just hang around me for months on end without my touching them or making decisions about them, is the result the death of a living space?

I know that creativity requires space. I know that for the mind to imagine new realities it has to unlearn some old realities. I know that the spirit of creativity lives when it has breathing space. I wonder of the clutter limits my imagination and hinders the birth of a new future?

And, I wonder if the electronic stimuli that floods our daily life could be called a necrosis of clutter. Can I develop an idea or thought beyond the surface level of its potential. Because there is so much electronic clutter, do I glide over surface of the ocean rather than diving down and exploring the life that roils under the water?

I am not sure I know the answer, but I do think it is worth pondering.