Dead flowers, Dead relationships

Or, I get “interesting” with a scanner

There’s a museum in LA called the Museum of Broken Relationships which I’ve never been to, but nonetheless feel I can judge. I only bring this up because these photographs of dried corsages and boutonnieres from high school dances I made at the end of the summer strike me as something which could very well be in the same vein. They aren’t—I was experimenting with scanner photography and seized upon the nearest available interesting things to scan at well-past midnight one night. There isn’t any latent (or blatant) symbolism here. But imagine a gallery full of these, each supposedly symbolizing the demise of a high school love. Each with a little blurb about or from the person whose corsage or boutonniere it (supposedly) was. Broken relationships, dried-up high school dreams, shriveled romances. Dead flowers, dead relationships. You get the picture. John Quinn would probably love it.


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