A few years ago I began taking photos of mattresses throughout my wandering. I was intrigued by the way people would discard their used, tattered, lifeless foam pads that at one time stood as the pinnacle point of the bedroom. The mattress has so many connotations beyond the obvious, so many dreams have been had on the top of these thick pieces of material. There are very few other objects that have had the pleasure of absorbing so many unconscious peoples thoughts merely by existing. Some of the most candid conversations have taken place on the bed. Secrets shared, stories exchanged, mundane end of the day dialog that helps slow the mind before slipping into the darkness of the night. Romantic excursions, one night stands, and affairs have all played a role on the surface of this object.
This idea takes me to a place of discomfort and further questioning, especially when thinking about how after years of using this object we can so easily throw it out of the home environment and onto the curb. I see these discarded objects taking on another life once removed from the confines of the bedroom and cast into the harshness of the outside. Pathetic and used they start to take on a different form, as the original intention of them is taken out of context. Somehow I wish to pay a respect to these loaded objects so I will continue to document these castaways.