Living in New York, one can easily visualize the concept of drowning in waste; with the constant inflow of packages, food delivery and the accumulation of art supplies, every corner of my small apartment seems to be full of scrap canvases, old plastic bags, unused chopsticks and more. For two months, I became a collector of waste, saving the Styrofoam, plastic and textile materials that came in to my life momentarily just to immediately become waste.
In many ways, the viewer sees Wasteland through the eyes of a mermaid. In this underwater home, trash invades the space while simultaneously being welcomed, idealized and naïvely revalued. The room reimagines the waste island on a human scale, referencing bodily forms as a result of worn material and scale. The concept of clothing the body in chokeable waste again reminds the audience of the morbid reality behind Wasteland. This seemingly livable space becomes immediately unwelcoming as the visitor moves through it.
Wasteland immerses the consumer in the suffocating environment that we have created. The wearing of and entanglement in waste proves the physical effect that our bodies have in the space. We are trapped within a very real, manmade reality.