Cabinet of Curiosities

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Acceptance of Trauma

This was my childhood bedroom, it pretty much reflects the state of the rest of the house.  There was a lot of STUFF in there, and I didn't know it was wrong until I'd bring friends over and they'd be mortified.  To be humiliated at age 10 sticks with you, humiliation is deeper than being embarrassed.  We have reached a point where we no longer live like this, and maybe that's why I'm able to share this picture now..

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There are pictures from my childhood I can't show.

Someone is cropped out of this picture, in fact.  I'm no longer angry that you're gone, I'm angry you existed in the first place.  


It's made me hyperaware that we don't know who we are looking at, or what we are looking at, when we see pictures of strangers abandoned in the thrift stores.  From this moment forward, I was a victim.  I don't want to be a victim anymore.  

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My Brother, age (5-7, honestly can't say)

The world has been cruel to him, and I'm furious about it.  But from total destruction comes rebirth, and this kid's gonna soar.


In this photo he stands roughly where I stood in the photo before, just about 6-8 years later. 

Ongoing project

Give Me Your Anxiety

A project about Peace of Mind.


[pictured here is me in 1999. The world was falling down around me at the time, and I didn't know it yet.  This was the calm before the storm.]

Why Would Anyone Give Me Their Anxiety?

When I was little I couldn’t sleep many nights because I was worried. 

My mom would have me write that worry down or draw it, fold it up,

and put it in her sock drawer. She promised me she wouldn’t look at it and that I could have it back at any time if I wanted it, but for that moment I needed to sleep and so for peace of mind my worries were in her sock drawer now, not in my mind. This worked countless nights I was wide awake riddled with what I didn’t know at the time

to be anxiety.

Now I want to extend a modified version of this service to you. I’m your mom now, give me what makes you anxious. Give me what reminds you of trauma or heartbreak. Let me take it off your hands and give it a respectful resting place.

How to Participate:

- Send me an email at madisonj.alexander@gmail.com for information.

Inside Out: personal space for public viewing.  

Home Videos about my father.