No matter what you call it, clutter, mess, junk, or hoarding, I can produce the aforementioned with a snap of my fingers. I like to think of it as channeling my inner kangaroo rat. I also consider myself to be a recycler/reuser par excellance. My husband may see junk where I see possibility. After all, those mismatched beads may be drafted into a new role as part of a mixed media piece. Despite my well-crafted, logical argument in favor of keeping my materials I suspect some are being moved out of the house when I’m otherwise engaged.