We All End Up In The Dumpster

Hand embroidered, machine and hand sewn, jeans, beads. 2023

My dad died on a Tuesday. The following Friday the dump truck came and took him away. The parts of him that were made of wood and glass shattered as they cleared the sides of the truck and mournfully landed on the bottom of the bed. Screws and nails that held him together scattered the lawn and splinters of memories cut through the anguished air. They tell you death is surreal, dreadful, gut wrenching, but they fail to tell you what it’s like when the dumpster comes. 

Within an hour, 79 years were removed and now rests in a landfill. What was once honored, cherished, and loved now rots with the others. Death, identity, and consumer culture are the driving forces for this piece. By recomposing old jeans and beads, this wearable top is a tattered shield against the inevitable.