Tangible Tangents — Week 11: Clearing Clutter

Over the past several weeks, I’ve been exploring different Tangible Tangents—building, drawing, baking, brewing, observing. Each one helped me reconnect with something I had been missing: creativity.

But somewhere along the way, I noticed something else creeping in.

Clutter.

Not just physical clutter—though there’s plenty of that in my garage right now. I’m talking about the quiet accumulation of half-finished ideas, tools left out from projects, and that one table that seems to collect everything. The kind of clutter you notice… and then ignore through the gradual acceptance of, “that’s just the way it is.”

My garage is currently a disaster.

While working on my greenhouse—and several Tangents—I slowly allowed one table to become the catch-all for anything I didn’t feel like putting away in the moment. Doubling down on this disaster, this table also acted as my son’s workbench for his work on his dirtbike and snow machines. Tools, materials, random parts—all of it just stacked up. Every time I walked past it, I knew it needed attention. And every time, I chose to deal with it later.

Later never came.

At the same time, I started to feel something else: a bit of mental friction. The kind that shows up when your environment isn’t quite right. The kind that makes starting the next project just a little harder than it should be.

That’s when it clicked.

Not every Tangible Tangent needs to be about creating something new. Sometimes, the most important thing you can do is make space.

This week’s Tangent was simple: clean and organize the garage.

No new tools. No new supplies. No new project.

Just time, effort, and a willingness to deal with what I had been putting off.

I started with the larger items: the riding lawnmower and the ATV.

Both tend to live in the middle of the garage and, over time, become collection points for “stuff” during their winter downtime. With spring arriving, I uncovered the mower, put air in the front tires, and moved it out to its seasonal spot in the backyard.

That freed up enough room to reposition the ATV and my son’s dirt bike closer to the garage doors, opening up the space significantly. Before moving things around, I swept out the rocks and dirt that had accumulated over the winter.

With some momentum going, I was ready to tackle that table.

One item at a time, I sorted through the pile—deciding what to keep, what to put away properly, and what to get rid of entirely. It wasn’t complicated work, but it required something I hadn’t been giving it: attention.

As the table cleared, so did something else.

There’s a noticeable shift that happens when a space is reset. Tools go back where they belong. Surfaces open up. The noise—both visual and mental—starts to fade.

Even meaningful pursuits can become clutter if they aren’t managed well.

I started Tangible Tangents to reconnect with creativity. What I didn’t expect was how quickly “trying new things” could start to feel like accumulation instead of intention.

Creating space is part of the process.

Starting small.

I didn’t try to clean the entire garage at once. I focused on one surface, one decision at a time. That made the whole task manageable—and, surprisingly, satisfying.

Letting it build up in the first place.

A little effort earlier would have saved a lot of effort later. That’s a lesson that seems to apply well beyond the garage.

There’s something about spring that invites a reset.

Longer days. More light. A subtle shift in energy. It feels like an opportunity to clear out what’s no longer needed and make room for what’s next.

I think that applies just as much to our spaces as it does to our minds.

You can’t build, create, or think clearly if everything around you—and inside your head—feels cluttered.

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do isn’t to add something new.

It’s to remove what doesn’t belong.

If there’s a space in your life that’s quietly collecting things—tools, projects, ideas—maybe this is your sign to clear it. Not perfectly. Just intentionally.

As we move into spring, I’m planning to shift Tangible Tangents to a monthly rhythm—giving each one a little more space to breathe, and a little more time to be intentional about what’s worth making.

Until next time, make something with your hands.
— Allen