Lifeless adventures, often with absolutely no motivation; can lead to some eerie findings.
I never understood the idea of dumpster diving, until some of my buddies decided we were too broke at a time; to just go out and venture into trashcans for art supplies.
We asked the university to arrange for a room where people could leave the projects they could leave throwaways to recycle, but we were informed there weren’t enough rooms available.
Decidedly so, we pursued dumpsters as our only hope of ever passing an art assignment.
Art products aren’t cheap, and frankly all of them go to waste after most of us were done passing the assignments.
Dumpsters became our joy, our hope, our one true friend that never disappointed.
Surprisingly, we never found any dead bodies or used condoms.
We did find a lot of wood and other assortments of discarded objects…we should’ve thought better of it, but hey we were broke.
Had to ace uni somehow.
Even after we’d kinda decided we didn’t ‘need’ to go dumpster diving anymore.
We started enjoying our nightly adventures.
We’d venture on, dumpster to dumpster — hoping for anything that might be useful.
One time we found a decent Mac-Pro, though it didn’t work — we managed to scrape it for parts and make frames out of it; it actually did well and the Professors were amazed at our ‘creation’.
We never told them our ‘creation’ was literally ‘trash’.
Instead, we chose the words ‘Avant-Garde’, because it sounded better.
Soon, this obsession became a decent source of income.
Basically stealing shit from dumpsters, cleaning it, and then creating ‘Avant-Garde’ pieces out of it.
We even named our project after our smelly relationship with dumpsters; “The Trash Collectors”.
Other students hated us, Professors were amazed by us, and Artsy collaborators had orgasms over us.
One even compared our work to ‘Banksy’.
Whilst we’d keep a pretentious smile on our faces as we basically dumpster-dived our way through university, back at our smelly apartment now all hoarded up with trash; we’d come to appreciate what people throw away.
In a way, the dumpsters were kinda like us.
Rejected pieces, probably not having a place in a household anymore.
Smelly, Useless, and probably a bit damp.
Times have changed and it’s been a while since I’ve thought about my days as a dumpster-diver; thinking how it’s a reminder of what we throw away may-be of use to another.
Of how easily one can make the decision to discard something, and how conveniently broke students could ace through university by pretending we’d just discovered fire.
I went back to our old garage and found one of those pieces; reminding me of the time all of my friends thought life was so very simply — we basically made a living out of ‘trash’.
Looking back, I wish I could still go dumpster-diving; maybe someday I will.
Hope to bring some joy back into a life that was once so simple.
The joke still continues to this day, as rare as it is now, when we finally do meet up — we all have wonderful stories to share of how ‘dumpsters’ kept us all together into believing we weren’t ‘trash’ all together.
A realisation remains with me to this day, “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” — whoever came up with that statement must’ve made a killing off of dumpster-diving.