Among my most prized possessions are words that I have never spoken.” Orson Scott Card
Discarded With Honour is a photographic project which began for me at the start of 2021. I’d spent the best part of the year before, looking around our house at the hoards of stuff we had collected over the decades. I found myself thinking about the significance and meaning of these objects that are so familiar, yet by stepping back and looking at them more curiously reminded me of their own story, of how and why they came to be here.
What struck me most is how many of these objects can stop bringing us the joy they once brought, that we can forget the reason why. So I chose to give some of them a ceremonial goodbye through stories and photographs, to reconnect with them to be able to let them go. I started with some of my own possessions, like my grandmother’s old hand towel from her home after she died, the bath toys my daughter no longer plays with. It became more of a social documentary after this, where I began photographing others, like Leo beginning their non-binary journey and disconnecting with the clothes they no longer want to wear.                                                                                                                                                                                                     
I’ve always wanted to collaborate on this project with some of my artist friends, where many live around the world and we don’t get to meet easily in person.  I became curious about what they might share and want to discard. Or not to discard in some cases, about the objects that no longer serve them in life.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       
This became our project for the month of December 2021. A weekly advent, if you like, about metaphorically letting go rather than gathering.
A place where we get to honour the objects we walk passed each day, or get brave in our sharing of stories with some rituals around some possessions that once brought joy and might now cause pain.
Some of these artists have shared a few of their stories below…

Back in the 80s, my parents had this telephone in their house. Eventually it got replaced with a cordless phone and was moved up into the office loft, where I used to sneak off and go to hide out. The telephone sat on a big wooden desk and I remember tinkering with the dial just to listen to the sound of it winding back, while placing the chunky handset to my ears. Its loud ring would make us jump out of whatever we were doing to rush to pick up the phone, and I would always anticipate it was some relative calling from Hong Kong.

Since this telephone has been in my possession, I have got it out for one time to use mainly to remind myself of its simple charm. I was curious to see if the children might play with it, but I think I fooled myself into thinking that they would be interested. Mobile phones/ WhatsApp/ FaceTime have replaced the way I/they connect with our friends and family nowadays. What would they have with the use of an old telephone?

I think someone else might appreciate its charm instead, so it’s time to put down the phone and say one last goodbye.


Kyra  |  @fasophotography

I want to discard the noise in my head. Negative self talk. Images that should inspire but leave me anxious. My head is filled with the noise. Colors of blue and red blending into darkness. Escape in a bath. Unplug. Less noise. More time. Less noise. More books. Less noise. More creativity. The noise is still there.I must get rid of the noise.More God. Peace.


Lizzie  |  @liztomo2

My favourite wine glass…broken.

It was my favourite because it was big…big enough so I could put plenty in before I flopped on the sofa at the end of the day when the house was quiet and I was done being Mum…and it meant I didn’t have to get up too soon to refill it.

As I get older, I can see that my relationship with alcohol is pretty broken too…it doesn’t serve me well and give me the life that the adverts all promise.  Having done extended alcohol-free breaks before, I know deep down that I much prefer the person I am without it.

Let’s face it… 2021 has given us many reasons to drink!!….but I need 2022 to be better.

My kids deserve the best version of me…and through that window, I can see a much better and happier life.


Ann  |

I wrote you a letter today. Pouring my heart into ink on pages upon pages of paper. It’s the first time I’ve done so, allowing my heart to be heard and honoured. I felt physical sickness at the same time, my emotional centre, my solar plexus taking the brunt of it. It was a day of purging. Today I am releasing all the bad memories, the darkness, the unsaid words, the confusion, even the good memories and the happy contradictions that I have held in my body. I no longer need to carry them around with me.

Afterwards, the tears flowed and I could feel your presence around me, like a cloud, maybe this was the parts of you I let go. Maybe in setting myself free I set you free too. Now, the empty spaces within me, those spaces that I have freed, can finally blossom and bloom into something new & extraordinary.


Wendy  |  @wendyalweyn

Christmas time is family time
I love everything about it
Grandma always made us clothes
As a child, I wanted bought clothes just like my friends
Now I wish I had the clothes she made me
Always made with love
This was the only time of the year we got new clothes
Now, every year, my girls and I buy new clothes for Christmas
Continuing on the tradition
And each year, when we put up the tree
We keep front and centre the ornament that adorned grandma’s tree – an elf, no longer able to hang
A tribute to my childhood
Where I stand, 5 years old, in my new clothes and the Elf on the tree next to me
Every year I think will toss away the Elf, but he still seems to find his way back


Kirsty  |  @kirstylarmour

I’ve always been hard on myself with flowers, as if to buy them when I know they will die and be discarded is an extravagance I can’t afford myself, yet I know they bring me immense joy, and why deny that pleasure? So when we moved back to India I made a pledge to myself to embrace this joy. In India flowers aren’t a luxury, but a necessary part of everyday. They are part decoration, part worship and ritual, and they are discarded with ease as part of the process. And yet still it’s hard for me to let them go – I leave them withered in a vase, unable to put them in the bin, or dried and discoloured and hanging from picture frames, not yet consigned to the rubbish heap. I never want to let go.

They’re not a possession to own, but something transient that passes through our lives, still, something I hold dear. But maybe it’s the habits of how I treat myself that need to be released. And the flowers become symbolic. The beauty of flowers, and my reluctance to let them go…..


Read more #discardedwithhonour stories by visiting the other artists who contributed here…








Among my most prized possessions are words that I have never spoken.” Orson Scott Card

Welcome to our #discardedwithhonour blog circle. This has been an artists’ collaboration throughout December 2021, giving celebration and honour to the possessions in our lives that no longer serve us. Sometimes these objects stop bringing us the joy they once brought. By giving them a ceremonial goodbye, through our stories and photographs, we get to reconnect with them. We get to let them go.

Please visit the next artist, the talented Ann Owen to hear about their experience over the past month.

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