Possible Lives
2020
In December 2019 when visiting a flea-market in Bruxelles, I found a suitcase filled with pictures, papers, records, postcards, receipts and other traces of a deceased person. They were up for the grabs in a corner of the market. Abandoned. I brought some of these traces to Montreal, wondering why this suitcase ended up there, imagining who this person had been. It confronted me with my own mortality. Where do our traces go after we die? |