What Do You Have In Your Closet?
My parents have lived in the same home for 24 years this July. We moved in two months after my younger brother was born and my mom had the whole place unpacked in time for my third birthday party on the back porch two weeks later. It was the perfect home in which to raise four kids: nearly five acres in a nice neighborhood with a pool in the yard and the "athletic field" that my dad carved out of the woods so that my older brother would have a place to play lacrosse with his friends. But now all the kids have moved out and the family home feels more like a shell of its former self. As my brother aptly expressed it, the mood in the house is, "like the day after a party," when you remember the liveliness of the night before but can't quite recreate that warmth again come morning.
So in an effort to prepare for the inevitable move to a more suitable home for this phase in their lives, my parents are purging, painting, and making other necessary changes. That means they've had to take down The World.
I don't know how long The World has been collaged onto the walls of the one upstairs closet but it must have gone up sometime around when my brother first left home at 16. There are animals, mountain ranges, and a sky full of clouds overhead. The pièce de résistance is the map full of pins, indicating locales around the earth where my brother has lived... traveled... tracked wildlife.
Before my parents peeled the images off the wall, my mom sent me in to photograph the closet. And though we now have a photographic record of that space, I wouldn't be surprised if The World reappears in another closet in the near future.































