Stuff. We work to obtain it, keep it, and rid ourselves of it. We tend to it, store it, restore it, move it, and feel great emotion towards it. This past year, I examined my relationship to my ever-growing pile of stuff. I realized my possessions had created a negative hold on my time and my surroundings, hence, my life. Of course we all need stuff to a certain degree, but my modest home was bursting at the seams due to my inability to let go of objects. I thought if I purged a possession, I would forget the memory associated with it, be seen as imprudent, or ungrateful. Worse yet, I thought my identity was at risk. In essence, it was. I was at risk of becoming swallowed whole by what I owned.

The visual portion of the show is the unembellished (nearly complete) renovations of my home. I strongly encourage the exhibit’s participants to look into my literal and proverbial medicine, filing and kitchen cabinets. With each and every last item in my home having been scrutinized for its validity, what is left is both conceptual and tangible. While several hundred items have been discarded, donated, or sold, I still feel I own too much. However, the idea of shedding something now is not nearly as crippling as it once was.

The audial portion of the show reflects the emotional overhaul the metamorphic process evoked. After months of work, feelings of fear, frustration, defeat, guilt, insecurity, obligation, gluttony, and resentment began giving way to feelings of lightness, resolve, openness, awareness, peace and downright fabulousness.

While the political, social and environmental implications of consumerism informed much of my research, I was compelled to use my personal experiences to inspire my writing and recordings. Let them stand as a glimpse into society’s preoccupation of acquiring and retaining stuff, stuff and yet more stuff.

Nicole C.W. Gruter