Fascinating. It feels like I’m invading your privacy when I roam though your pictures of exotic travels, where you pose alone. I could not get myself to read your letters, although I was curious about you. You leave a fine collection of artifacts to your life. Simply an attractive collage of private valuables.
You spend your life, collecting these little memories of life: photographs, jewelry, fashionable bags, letters, souvenirs and hats. These little things tell a story about you. All of it creates your self-image as a women.
And then… you die.
Apparently all what you have collected that underlined your female image – the woman you were and wanted to be – was intriguing. The people who scammed your house took all of value and are now selling what is left of you on a flea market. Selling the image of ‘you’, bit by bit.
Inspiration: a trip to the flea market Berlin am Boxhagenerplatz