Trinkets: Decorated Ownership: A gathering spot of mosaic memories. A poem by LionHeartfelt
‘My room is like a horrible shrine to my 16 year old self’
I have objects
placed in controlled confusion,
people would wonder why I hold on to things
like my past is my future’s refugee,
harbouring nostalgia in a childhood hallway,
I’m ‘Sentimental about inanimate objects’
And yet these trinkets are so full of life:
-‘They’re all things someone has given to me’
-‘Or reflect my relationships with other people’
They say a lot about me. Even though
They don’t show where I want to go.
I find value is a depth beyond the surface.
Memory: The deeper aesthetic.
My bedroom is a built environment of trinkets
where memories are the walls only amnesia
can seduce away, but I’d notice
if something was missing, moved or forgotten.
Contributing Notes:
The one thing we can control is how we invite ourselves into a familiar space. What familiarity does in architecture, rekindles sleeping neurons, perhaps we are awakening each time that familiarity sparks resonance. Whereas the direction of architecture outside of this space: our home, bedroom, garden etc. serves a controlling function outside of the individual.
