Today, two of my neighbours are talking about the progress of their renovations. L says she has more rubbish to get rid of and that another skip has just been delivered. Then she adds “I bet somebody dumps a mattress before it gets taken away”. K looks at her amazed and says “that always happens to us too”.

I just stand there thinking about mattresses and how often I see them dumped on the street. I make art from found objects and often wonder if I can make something use them for something. I always decide to stick to my 5cm size limit. If you collect junk, storage can become a big problem.

Then I think about the histories they hold. The excitement of moving into a new place. The sadness of moving on, or excitement for that matter. How much shagging went on. Lots, none, rejections, broken hearts, illness – the possibilities are endless.