Trash Day is the day that I carry my a camera with me wherever I go. People throw away some really cool stuff! I’m like a little boy when it comes to refuse.My childhood counterpart and I would forage through a pile of broken lawnmower engines that were discarded by the park groundskeepers in common dream of building a go-cart. We would bring home an engine at a time and disassemble it with our father’s tools only to determine, we had no idea how to put it back together let alone how to fix it. But we would spend hours and hours in our garages working on these junk engines like Mario Andretti’s pit crew. Whenever I walk my dogs down in the park along Tacony Creek, I am on the look out for nuggets of fools golden garbage to use in my still life images.
I’m not a psychologist, but, as that enterprising little boy, I always viewed junk as what it could be. As an adult I look at junk and imagine a story of how the object(s) came to be. Like Looney Tunes’ Ralph Phillips. As an adult, a photographer, an artist, I imagine or see a story of how an object came to be. Therefore to me, every piece of junk has a story. It’s my goal to invoke a story, any story, from my images of trash, junk, refuse.
Every Monday morning I drive my daughter to her school. It just happens that Trash day is on Mondays in her school’s Philadelphia neighborhood. Last Monday, as we headed to school, my daughter said, “Look. a piano.” So after I dropped her off at school, I swung back to take some pictures of it.
My daughter by saying “piano” , resulted in 199 images shot of this seemingly non-eventful passing of a piano sitting on the curb on trash day. I always wonder what story this piano owns. How did it get here? What has it seen? It must have been in a saloon and how many fights did it see and what people played it?
“Ralph! Ralph Phillips!”
“Your daydreaming again!”
Shared on ViewBug