GROCERY WITH A PLOT (2022)
People’s groceries fascinate me. There’s something so secretive yet wildly revealing about them. So back when I was living in Berlin, Germany, I curated a series where I’d take pictures of and make up back stories about them. Here are a handful of those stories. Posting sometimes on @grocerywithaplot.
She’s married to a self-proclaimed kitchen maestro. But tonight, tragedy struck: the paprika was out. Ever the efficient helper, She makes a quick Trader Joe’s run, spice in hand, plus a few indulgences for the encore, because watching him lose it over seasoning is pure entertainment.
His rule? No snacks before mealtime.
His rule? No snacks before mealtime.
He owns a cat. She’s lovely, of course, if you overlook the sugar dependency and mild violence that keeps him humble. Deny her a treat, and his Neukölln shoebox flat takes the brunt of her moods. No wonder they say love hurts.
She swears by the cure-all for every ailment: drink more water. Maybe it’s because she’s perpetually dehydrated. Maybe it’s the salt-cured post-10 p.m. bargains from the deli on the corner.
Still, she’s a skeptic. Maybe no amount of water will ever be enough to keep me moisturized, she thinks, scanning an aisle of lotions. Maybe that’s why she says “maybe” so often. Maybe she’s just a fish out of water. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s finally found her element in indecision.
Still, she’s a skeptic. Maybe no amount of water will ever be enough to keep me moisturized, she thinks, scanning an aisle of lotions. Maybe that’s why she says “maybe” so often. Maybe she’s just a fish out of water. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s finally found her element in indecision.
Another bowl of cereal. Another half-finished mug of tea from the night before. Another peanut-buttered knife from a desperate toast rescue. The sink is a crime scene. He stares, nauseated. The thought of washing them, only to make room for more, feels cruel. Sometimes he imagines smashing them all. But intrusive thoughts only win if you let them.
“Well,” he sighs, “this’ll be a long night.”
He grabs the scrub sponge, and heads straight to the alcohol aisle. Because no one conquers two weeks of dishes sober.
“Well,” he sighs, “this’ll be a long night.”
He grabs the scrub sponge, and heads straight to the alcohol aisle. Because no one conquers two weeks of dishes sober.
“This should do the trick,” she said, tossing a pair of super-grip gloves into her basket. Her curls had become so silky her fingers now slid right off. A month ago, she’d have killed for this texture. Now she just missed the friction. So yes, a little grip was very much needed.
He has major boundaries issues.
JUST A SHRIGLEY’S FAN (2019)
Imitation is a form of flattery. And I’m a huge fan of David Shrigley. Here are things I drew inspired by his style.