In preparation for our move, I’ve spent weeks and weeks culling our possessions, in the hopes of lightening our load. And yet, we’ve still managed to fill two 24-foot trucks. Even as the movers were loading the truck this morning, I was taking things from their hands to plonk on the curb. “Free vintage Italian posters, please take one.” The idea of living as minimalists for a year, with only our bare essentials held a certain appeal, until we found an apartment large enough that we didn’t have to. What drew me to the space was that I could see our life in it. And that included all the crazy papier-mâché , paintings, textiles, glass and ceramics we’ve collected over two decades. The editing experience has been a good one, in that I now know what we own. Duplicates of photographs were discarded. Almost all the kid’s art, too. Clothes, toys, books and shoes, all tossed or re-homed. I’m a maximalist, and I’m sentimental, so while I wouldn’t make it into the William Morris school of design, his words helped me as I packed. Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.