Sophie isn't really there
Minimalism was never just a visual choice for Sophie, although it was never so visibly obvious as in her home. Of course waste frustrated her. Naturally searching for the most efficient way to reach any conclusion gave her a sense of purpose. Growing up as a slightly over-weight, frizzy haired loud voiced girl she didn’t feel that the world had enough space for her to move around in, so becoming ‘Less’ was the answer. Diligence meant often success but not a reprieve. Chipping away pieces of unnecessary words, pounds, actions. Shortly after she left her parents home (chunky brown furniture, frills and figurines) she made a new friend. Slender, clever, cool in ways Sophie could never be (an architecture student, imagine that!) new friend. To keep up it was plainly time to make some tough cuts. Cushions were an obvious enemy. Curtains were made redundant by the simple fact that she was constantly judged internally and therefore always perfectly on show. The walls were chalky white and everything visible looked effortless, tidy and oh so minimal. Weekly trips to the local charity shop notwithstanding, no removal seemed to be the final one, not even for the time being. The darkness and emotional clutter remained present but hidden, under this tastefully vacant and clinical surface. Sophie somewhat succeeded in hiding it, but at certain cloudy moments, all she wanted was for some stormy, abstract, unclear vision to appear and for someone, someone other than her, to see it.