Visual Arts

Michael Apruzzese Wants to See Your Junk Drawer

Apruzzese has photographed about 200 junk drawers in Portland so far.

Junk Drawer Photo (Michael Apruzzese)

For the past year, flyers have papered the city that read, “I took a picture of your junk drawer” in enormous font. The curious could scan a QR code or read on to learn more about this strange assertion.

“If I haven’t taken a picture of your junk drawer yet, and you would like to be featured in my book, let me know,” it says.

Who would let a stranger from a flyer come to their home, rifle through their drawers, and take photos for publication? In Portland, about 200 people so far.

“I’ve been getting such an outpouring of support that I’m just like, ‘Yeah, please. I will take everything,’ just because I’m excited to show off everybody’s junk drawers to each other,” says the photographer, Michael Apruzzese.

Michael Apruzzese (Whitney McPhie)

What there is to show off: coins, scissors, stamps, weird cords, errant keys, dog treats, cigarettes, and a squirt gun. There’ve been sex toys, trash, lip balm, a Tamagotchi, flashlights, glue and a whoopee cushion. Batteries and tape are the two most common items in Portland junk drawers, Apruzzese says. Third place is a tie between ant traps and drugs.

“Actually, quite a few people offer me drugs,” Apruzzese says. “Which, I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t taken anyone up on that.”

The project started when Apruzzese, 33, was laid off from his 9-to-5 job at a retirement home last June. He suddenly had all day to devote to his creative pursuits, which primarily had been music—he makes electronic music under the name Rad! Bummer!—but now could expand to visual art. Apruzzese plans to turn the junk drawer photos into a glossy coffee-table book, and has launched a Kickstarter campaign to that effect. For now, he posts a sampling on Instagram, @junkdrawerbook.

He was inspired by a few similar projects, such as an online photo series of the contents of people’s refrigerators or purses. But the main inspiration was Found, a magazine by Davy Rothbart which was a sensation in the early ’00s and became a book in 2004. Found spotlighted detritus found on the street such as notes, receipts, shopping lists and photos.

All of the above explore the idea of using objects as a way to make guesses about a person’s life. It’s interesting to have disembodied objects, in places such as the inside of a fridge or a purse or a junk drawer, and try to form a picture of who the person behind the objects might be. It’s a fun puzzle, and you may be totally right or totally wrong, and you will probably never know.

Apruzzese designed the flyer, bought a sturdy staple gun, and waited for a response. The calls rolled in quickly, and he started crisscrossing the city to photograph all of the volunteered junk drawers. He’s taken pictures in every single neighborhood in Portland except the West Hills (someone call him!) and says neighborhood affluence has absolutely no bearing on the contents or quality of one’s junk drawer. Perhaps junk drawers are the last great equalizer.

Junk drawers are a purgatory between “properly stored” and “trash,” and nearly everyone has one. Apruzzese says they’re typically either in the kitchen or near the entrance of a home, but sometimes can be in a nightstand or a cabinet. Some people’s junk drawers are truly trash, serving as a way station before hitting the garbage. Others, about 10%, are meticulously organized and sometimes labeled. “But to them, that’s still their junk drawer,” Apruzzese says.

He worried at the onset that the project would get monotonous. That has not been a problem, he says. “I’m blown away. Every single person’s drawer is different, and not just by a little bit. It’s, like, significantly different.”

A few small businesses and prominent Portlanders have participated, such as Sunlan Lighting on North Mississippi Avenue, Willamette Week, Star Tropics Pinball Museum in Lloyd Center, artist Mike Bennett, and the original Portland Antifa Frog, Seth “Toad” Todd.

Apruzzese asks participants for a quote after he takes the photos, which have ranged from explanations of the junk drawer to political commentary to philosophical musings. People can be as anonymous or self-promotional as they’d like.

He has posted over 1,000 flyers and surpassed his original goal of 175 junk drawers. The staple gun is breaking down, and Apruzzese is nearing the bottom of the box of 5,000 staples, which he’s taking as a natural conclusion to the project. He’s laying out the book pages and leaning into lessons learned.

“I’ve learned that there is a through line through people’s junk drawers. And it is one of the coolest things I think I’ve ever seen. It feels like I made a discovery, because everyone has a junk drawer…Regardless of where you live, the messiness is still there.”


SEE IT: For samples of Michael Apruzzese’s junk-drawer photography, visit instagram.com/junkdrawerbook.

Rachel Saslow

Rachel Saslow is an arts and culture reporter. Before joining WW, she wrote the Arts Beat column for The Washington Post. She is always down for karaoke night.

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