"Space is like media: We can leave a trace in space – thereby recording on to it. We store things in space, thereby inscribing it, and rediscover places, thereby replaying space. Through our experience of space, we transform it in to place. Our experience of space has an immediacy. We observe not with one sensory organ – but with all of them. Our eyes, ears, our skin, our smell, our soul. It is a potent media." (La Trobe, 2013)
The poetics of the home:
Under the bed has always been something to be dreaded... It was a place that no one would want to venture and see what was under there, but the things that have been hiding in this unknown and dark space has changed throughout the years. When I was younger, I heard about the 'monster under the bed' and because of this tale, I was always too afraid to look, too afraid that the monster would grab me and pull me under and drag me to the shadows where I would be lost forever. I truly believed this when I was three, and for the following few years I made an effort to jump into bed and jump out of bed to avoid that gap between the floor and my mattress, until I one day had the genius idea. This idea consisted of putting all my extra stuffed toys underneath the bed in an effort to protect myself from the chance that the monster could come out (because there is nothing more fierce than an army of stuffed toys). But as years passed and I realised there was nothing evil lurking beneath the bed, and my toys vacated to new homes, the space remained forgotten and just became a convenient place to stuff unwanted clutter which would be discovered every once and a while and then thrown out. But now, I have conquered the expanse and now have accepted that under the bed is probably the most timeless part of the entire room. By this, I mean that, everyday things move around in my room, however, under the bed remains untouched, and what else remains untouched? The past. So that is what now hides under my bed and what I saw when taking this photo. Objects from my past, like old birthday cards, notes from friends, movie tickets, etc. are now stored away in shoeboxes neatly under the bed. I don't go through them, but one day when I'm old, I will have something to look back on, like a photo album.
Under the bed I see two shoeboxes filled with old documents of past events and two open top boxes that are filled with "treasure," or what I thought of as treasure when I was little, like a shell necklace, a scrunchy with sparkles, letter magnets, plastic beds, badges, etc. Worthless to anyone else, but things so precious to the three year old me that was scared of the monster that no longer lives under my bed.
References:
Latrobe university, 2013, 'The Poetics of Home,' Exploring Media Arts, blog post, 9th September, http://exploringmediaarts.wordpress.com/2013/09/09/the-poetics-of-home/
The poetics of the home:
Under the bed has always been something to be dreaded... It was a place that no one would want to venture and see what was under there, but the things that have been hiding in this unknown and dark space has changed throughout the years. When I was younger, I heard about the 'monster under the bed' and because of this tale, I was always too afraid to look, too afraid that the monster would grab me and pull me under and drag me to the shadows where I would be lost forever. I truly believed this when I was three, and for the following few years I made an effort to jump into bed and jump out of bed to avoid that gap between the floor and my mattress, until I one day had the genius idea. This idea consisted of putting all my extra stuffed toys underneath the bed in an effort to protect myself from the chance that the monster could come out (because there is nothing more fierce than an army of stuffed toys). But as years passed and I realised there was nothing evil lurking beneath the bed, and my toys vacated to new homes, the space remained forgotten and just became a convenient place to stuff unwanted clutter which would be discovered every once and a while and then thrown out. But now, I have conquered the expanse and now have accepted that under the bed is probably the most timeless part of the entire room. By this, I mean that, everyday things move around in my room, however, under the bed remains untouched, and what else remains untouched? The past. So that is what now hides under my bed and what I saw when taking this photo. Objects from my past, like old birthday cards, notes from friends, movie tickets, etc. are now stored away in shoeboxes neatly under the bed. I don't go through them, but one day when I'm old, I will have something to look back on, like a photo album.
 |
| Under the bed |
References:
Latrobe university, 2013, 'The Poetics of Home,' Exploring Media Arts, blog post, 9th September, http://exploringmediaarts.wordpress.com/2013/09/09/the-poetics-of-home/
No comments:
Post a Comment