There’s a gross intimacy in pulling strangers’ hair from shower drains or cleaning their vomit off of shower curtains. I clean hotels across Savannah and in my boredom or perversity, I build profiles of who might’ve stayed in each room while I work.
People reveal themselves through their bedsheets: sometimes I feel like I can read their dreams.
I’d like to explore the somewhat tasteless side of human curiosity and how exploitation of the mundane can turn into vulgarity.
Each sheet is scented with what the imagined wearer might have smelled like that could have informed their dreams. From left to right:
1: Pineapple upside down cake batter and and your grandmother’s perfume
2. Seaweed and wet moss, heavy resins and dark woods
3. A deep sleep- eucalyptus, orange oil, lavender, and the like
4. Somewhat surreal, somewhat familiar. Herbaceous, yet powdery; deep, but light.
Description on pillowcase
Still 1
Projector
