Worn out. Things wear out. The spoon, the knife, the fork from Habitat in the 1970s. These things will last longer than me. The fridge has been replaced. The bricks that hold this house together will last a few human times of life. This iPhone may last into next year. And our bodies, a little worse for wear.
I possess loads of stuff, or does loads of stuff possess me? Do things put a spell on me? I sometimes feel possessed by things. A strange feeling. I hold onto loads of things as though I might use them or find a use for them one day. The days pass, the weeks, the months, the years. These things still in their place, waiting to be used. Making places for things that are not used seems strange. I've found all sorts of excuses for holding onto things, I'm now finding excuses for letting things go. Maybe becoming a little dispossessed.
Just photographing and captioning everything I have would probably take the rest of my life. Wires, screws, knobs, plugs, cassettes, floppy discs, books, records. Strangely the records, the albums may be some of the last things to let go of, and I can't even play them. I'll let things go, and photograph some of the things I really want to keep. And hopefully the things I let go of will find another life somewhere else, another home.