Everything Not Saved

While visiting home over Thanksgiving, I was reminded of a simple truth: that my house, and everything in it, is inextricable from my childhood. My room in particular has grown into an accidental curation of myself and every version of me there’s ever been.  I may outgrow phases and clothes, but these physical objects remain.

So what does it mean when I have to clean it out? What is it like to throw away items that have come to be artifacts of myself? This is my best attempt at portraying an exercise that excavates everything of your past.

Programming, words, game: Isabel Lee (isabellee.me)

Music:  Cozy Place by Keys of Moon | https://soundcloud.com/keysofmoon