Spencer George - VICARIOUS
One can learn a lot about someone by the state of their homes. Some more organized than myself will have straightened their pens and filed away their papers. Folded their clothes and made their bed. Others might let their living spaces run free with an eclectic collection of items scattered inconceivably around. I like to think my space lies somewhere between. My desk, for example, is currently covered in a thin layer of glitter, atop which an irreconcilably diverse collection of photography gear, measuring equipment, and spoons lies. Conversely, my floor is mostly clear of the debris of day-to-day life.
There is something deeply personal about this space that I am fascinated by. It is not aesthetic in any sense. Nor is this space purely productive. Instead, there is a homeliness here that only I will ever feel this way. My living space is an environment built to and defined by my standards that are set by my habits. This living space is authentically me. And yet, these personal spaces are often deeply unattractive and wholly mundane. An entrant in my space likely wouldn’t be thrilled to explore the landscape that is my desk - there simply is not a lot of emotional interest in a tube of chapstick and a few scattered wrappers for long - consumed gum.
But this space is unapologetically me.