This series of photographs, installations, co-creations with nature centres on the abandoned piles of clothes I find in liminal spaces—the lip of the park, under a bridge, in rural and urban areas. I call the piles of discarded clothes “nests” because they look like someone has accommodated themselves for the unpacking of what might be a stolen suitcase or hamper. I’m interested in the way the outdoor space becomes a closet or living room and how the wear and tear of the clothes indicates who might wear them or why they might be discarded. It’s impossible not to construct a story about the person who left the clothes here. Teenagers drinking? An unhoused person? Someone on the lam? Of course, there is menace; it’s impossible to overlook that.
I’m collecting photographs and writing about the way time is told in these images through the decay of fabric and the accrual of leaf material and the interaction of animals and insects.
Body an argument; how we are garmented.
—”From Surrey to Commercial Drive” from Trinity Street by Jen Currin (Anansi, 2023)