In 2003, I began documenting cultural artifacts - garbage in my front yard. My house was situated just a few houses away from a major road in Eastpointe, Michigan, an inner ring suburb of Detroit. The house sat at the focus point of a powerful wind pattern. Because of the location and aerodynamics of certain items, I had an unusual amount of trash blow into my driveway and lawn every day. My neighbors on either side of me and across the street never had anything blow into their yards, but I got a few items every day.
I started to photograph these pieces as part of the daily routine of picking up and disposing of them. Like an archaeologist processing artifacts from an ancient site, I photographed and catalogued the items as they appeared, undisturbed, attempting to tie them to their local culture. The items were random and amusing, and as time went on, I saw patterns and narratives emerge. One day, I discovered a kid’s homework paper or a beef jerky wrapper. The next day it was a religious tract or a wad of plastic wrap and on and on. These remnants originated from the convenience store around the corner, the high school and middle school down the street, and the equipment rental place at the end of the block - the characters and sources of these artifacts.
