Bins on Monday:
These large, awkward blocks of color stand out in neighborhoods with a graphic modernism that makes them irresistibly dynamic. The waste systems that they are a part of, the infrastructure they support, are so omnipresent in my community that a tension builds with them: they are bold and ignoble. In the absence of people, wastebins take on personalities— they interact, form their own compositions, develop a personality that belies a depth beyond formalism. There’s drama in their experience, relationships; something akin to a life. Through them, I can escape into their stories. This is a hard world to be in 24 hours a day. I imagine that all of the terrible things which are happening right now have been discarded into these bins— to be unloaded by my city’s waste management employees in their trucks, to be processed, to be cubed, to be thrown away.
