Annebel Bruschinski
installatie - sculptuur - archieven - artistiek onderzoek - ecologie
Our belongings, hence the name, belong to us. Do we ever think that they long not to be? Dear inanimate, are you comfortable there? Dear cushion, sitting on my bed. Quiet and asleep. Waiting for my head to land on you. My sweet sweater, caressing me throughout the harsh cold. Be kind and be loving to your companions. You’ll probably outlast all of us. What does life mean if there is no death? Will you be constantly confronted by waste and neglect. Will I be constantly tempted by greed.