Stories of Objects In Displacement
Choose an object in exile and of exile from your past or from your present, send us an image of it, tell us its story.
Like us, an object has many lives and tells many stories. Witnesses of a presence or an absence, an object reminds us who we were and who we are, where we are from, who used to love and care for us, whom we loved and cared for. Those who left their homeland did it accompanied by their objects, or by the memory of objects they couldn’t bring. That’s what we are looking for. Objects. We are looking for objects, any objects, together with stories that come along with them. Because objects tell stories, they are the visible fragments of our biography.
The economic and social crisis of the early 1990s, brought by the agony of the USSR, left a stark memory of deficit which became firmly imprinted into my consciousness.
The daily discomfort we faced at that time was far from a joke: total deficit of all types of goods, rapid inflation and insecurity. I remember the empty shelves of the local food stores and the never-ending, hundred metres-long queues. The queues deserve a special mention: they were an unavoidable attribute of every shopping procedure and it was customary to join one before inquiring what exactly the people were queuing for. We used to spend hours queuing for such basic products as fish, meat, butter, vegetable oil and even bread... [continue reading]