About minimalism
I used to think minimalism was about owning fewer things, the white walls and bare shelves that fill every minimalist photograph. Over time I started to doubt that. What gets removed in those photographs is visible. What is actually being reduced, I think, is something else: the number of decisions a life demands.
Every possession asks for something. It has to be stored and maintained, and eventually repaired or replaced. Every commitment keeps a piece of your attention long after you agreed to it, and information behaves the same way: an article saved for later, a podcast still in the queue, a browser tab that insists you revisit it. None of this feels heavy by itself. Together it adds up to a day full of small obligations nobody decided on purpose.


