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.
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.