Last year I was moving  26th time in my life, and what later appeard It wasn't my last time - just beggining of another "last-oneces". That time I looked closer into my carefully unselected  by last years the "baggage of my life".  Which I moved from one place to another evry each time. It turned out that over the past 12 years I've gathered, hoard a huge amount of stuff--trash, trinkets full of memories, that's not easy just to give away or throw away.

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The project, that I've start working on last year carry a universal message about our lives, issues important only for ureself, only from our personal perspective. It is an attempt to raise the profile of the everyday life of evryman and unveiling its uniqueness. A little sentimental journey back in time, it is kind a personal story, what actually everyone has one like it.

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In these kilograms of seemingly worthy nothing rag-memories I want to breathe new life. Lifting their abrasion, give them a new meaning, a new life, new function. 

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All of it leads me to ask myself:

That all stuff - do I really need it?

Shall I be attached to so many things?

Am I aware that I've got involved in consumer lifestyle idea that is beeing served to me for so many years?

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