VICTORIA ANDREW

I often find myself collecting little things, buying knick-knacks when I’m on vacation, out with friends, keeping a variety of random things from times with friends, to remember the moments, or buying decor to make my apartment feel more complete, things to make it feel more like a home, and not an empty box. I feel an attachment to my objects, to my stuffed animal Stinky Pants I’ve had my whole life, my orange bird sipper cup I got at Disney by spending $16 on a drink, to the monstera plant I bought when I first moved into my apartment. But at the end of the day, they are just objects, things that to others might not mean anything, but can expose a small light into who I am as a person. I think about what would happen if I lost all of these objects - would I be upset or would I move on? Would I continue to collect more objects? What objects would I be more upset about? These questions make me think about other people and their spaces - would they be upset? What would they be upset about? Would they even care? 

By going into other people's spaces, I’m able to look at all their objects and wonder if any of this stuff means anything to them or what means more to them. I look into these private spaces and pick out the objects that stand out to me, and share a bit about the person whose space I’m in. I don’t know if these objects mean anything to them. Once in other people's personal spaces, I’m able to pull them out of that privacy, separate them from the room, and create a new version of the space, condensing the various objects that I believe share the most about the person who lives in the space. This results in collages of these people's spaces, showcasing the person who owns these varieties of objects, but also the objects that stood out to me, the ones that I believed hold some sort of significance to the persons whose space I’m invading.