My eyes keep falling upon these discarded objects. I have a weird habit of leaving the object there for a day or two; if it is still there after that waiting period, I am allowed to pick it up. I have been doing this for years and years. The objects are almost always very small, mostly two-dimensional. In some strange psychomagical moment they take on a poetic life.
Over the past two weeks, I have been methodically photographing these objects and returning them to the discard heap. There is great pleasure in unburdening myself of things filling boxes and weighing down my “mouvances“.
I always wonder about coincidence…
To blank with love.