Out of Chaos an organizing newsletter
Are You Your Obects?
Yesterday, I saw a movie I’ve been dying to see: 20th Century Women. There were so many things I loved about this film, and so much to talk about—but one moment struck me as relevant to my work.
In the film, the character of Abbie, played by Greta Gerwig, is a photographer. In one scene, she is taking a photograph of a pair of red shoes, and in the next scene she excitedly shows a group of photographs to her housemate, William (played by Billy Crudup), explaining that she is going to take a photograph of every object she owns as a way of revealing herself through her work. William, an aging hippie, responds that while the photos are good, he thinks the project is kind of sad.
Of course he’s right: We are hardly the first generation to try to define ourselves by our possessions (look at the pharaohs, for heaven’s sake!), but when put so starkly, it is sad. On one level, it’s sad because someday we will all die and all that will be left will be some shoes, some dishes, perhaps a few books. But on a deeper level, it’s sad that as a society we look to objects to define us, whether it’s by our “look” (Urban-Hip-Hop, Upper-East-Side-Lady), by our car (Prius or Explorer?), even our phones. Sure, our purchases reflect our values, but am I nothing more than a pile of GAP jeans and made-in-the-USA socks? I hope not.
If I wanted to tell who I am in a photo essay (which we do all the time on Instagram and Facebook), I’d want it to be about people and experiences, because hopefully those tell more about who I am more than my ratty boots and sensible down jacket. What becomes a legend most? The time my sister and I took public buses to the Garden of the Gods in Colorado is a legendary trip in our memories. Or the time my friend Tory and I crashed the cast party for Midsummer Night’s Dream with Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson: I’m sure I was wearing something fabulous that night, but that isn’t what I remember; I remember the fun we had.
You are more than the sum of the objects you own; you are the people you’ve touched and the memories you’ve made, and that is a happy thing.