How Green Becomes Wood

At least the notes were not a horrible idea, although he wondered how often they were actually used to study. He directed his gaze towards the ceiling and pressed his lips slightly together. It was evident why those cats were up there, but one look around this room only made Dark more certain the answer as a firm no. There was not space for a cat in here. There was barely space for two people in here. It was not happening.

"You want to live in a lighthouse?" He asked, choosing to ignore the cat problem.
 
"Hmm?" Alec glanced up again. "No, it's representative of something else. What it stands for. So! Here's some of the things I've been working on." He waved a hand to the bed and the floor next to it. "These shirts and things are way past wearability and all worn out, so I want to turn them into a rag rug! I saw a really cool tutorial on how to do it with strips of cloth, upcycling cloth and all of that. It's just a lot of chopping and my hand gets tired, so I've only gotten a few strips. I tried ripping, but I don't think I'm doing it right. And here, these oven mitts! Remember these? I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, but I thought it'd be fun to get a plain shirt, rip off the fabric from the mitt, and then sew the funky fabric onto the shirt. It'll be so weird! And then here, it's another vase. I have the two pieces that broke off, I just need to glue them. And then here is..."

He kept chattering excitedly about all of his dozens of projects he was in the process or working on or had finished. He had finished quite a few, and he was extremely proud of all his finished projects, but they were just sitting there. Everything was just gathered around his room, not being used because there was simply so much. To his credit, most of it was very clean. He had clutter, not dirt.
 
"I see." Dark replied, looking through everything as though he were at an eclectic art museum or a very, very cluttered thrift store. Some of it, he had to admit, was impressive and he told Alec as much. But much of it was just... there. And it make him feel sort of itchy, even though it was all clean. Nobody could accuse Dark of being a minimalist, but even though his walls were full of art and his shelves laden with sculpture, everything he owned had a place, had a home, had a purpose. It was all meticulously selected. It was full, but it was cautious. This...

"Have you considered donating any of your fixed pieces?" He asked, turning one of the more impressive, but clearly unused, pieces in his hands, "There are some people who could really benefit from some of what you have fixed up."
 
"Donating?" Alec repeated blankly. "No, I hadn't thought about it. Why would I donate it? I like it. I'm proud of it. I mean, I don't use it as much... but... you know," he shrugged uneasily, watching Dark almost nervously, "everything needs to take its turn, you know?"
 
"It is worth being proud of," Dark assured Alec, staring at the mess of where it came from and struggling to figure out how to put it back, "It is a hobby I know some people are fond of, taking broken or worn down things, fixing them up, and passing them along so people who cannot afford new things still have nice belongings. It is generous, I believe. I sometimes make toys only to donate them to children's hospitals and women's shelters. It is its own sort of pride."
 
"Well, sure, it's fantastic," Alec agreed, carefully taking it from Dark and setting it back where he'd gotten it from, "but I'm not done with it yet. I can donate it later when I'm done with it, can't I?"
 
"Of course you can, if you are not done with it yet," He nodded, his sense of unease only growing, "But surely there are some fixed things you are finished with? I imagine it must be difficult to find some of what you need to work, and a bit cramped."
 
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"No, I can work.just fine," Alec said with more firmness than he intended. "I have plenty of space! It's not that cramped. Anyway, I don't see why I'd have to get rid of stuff when it's my stuff that I need and it's not hurting anyone else."
 
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