The concept of found objects has a different meaning on Hastings. It's not like "i found a fabulous lampshade for $25 at the Vancouver Flea Market, which i'll mix into my modernist loungeroom furniture to satisfy my individual aesthetic" type.
It's more like the "i need to grab that napkin from the footpath", or "even though that's a lady's pair of shoes resting at the bus stop, i'd better just grab them in case", or "there probably isn't even a whole drag left in that cigarette butt stuck between the cracks on the pavement, but i'll give it a shot because i'm hanging out."
There are some 'collectors' too. Many collectors line up outside one particular pawn shop that opens at 10am every morning. They have shopping trolleys and garbage bags filled to the brim with stuff that I would call junk, but they might make into money.
I'm reading "The Substance of Style
" at the moment, which is arguing to me that "the Rise of Aesthetic Value Is Remaking Commerce, Culture, and Consciousness". Yes, it is an interesting book, but I wondering what humanity becomes when commerce, culture and consciousness is desperate
Does the shoe-picker-upper give a shit what the shoes look like?