Recently I visited a place called the Library of Things. This is where each well-intentioned person can come and borrow a variety of useful items: a drill, a sewing machine, a telescope or the like. Things that are rarely necessary on a daily basis are available for borrowing at the Library of Things for the purpose of, in modern parlance, sharing. The main idea: not to give in to the moment's weakness that makes us want to definitely acquire something that is important at that particular moment, only to just as quickly fade from our memory, but rather to try and reduce the amount of things being bought and thus to also reduce the amount of waste being generated.

“This sharing economy is like some modern communism…” a friend who had come along whispered into my ear.

Communism. Is it because of the promised and never actually attained communism, which subjected life in the Soviet period to never-ending queues, a system of favours and collective poverty, that today we are so eager to increase our very own and personal collections of things, even though many of us never really experienced that time? Or have we become carried away with consumer society's illusory model of prosperity and happiness which was 'sold' to us after the National Awakening, when the wall had already fallen?

Similar to our post-war grannies, who neurotically accumulated everything for a rainy day, we also have started to gather and collect things. We spend our weekends in department stores and various temples of shopping to feel 'up to date' – to keep up with trends, fashions and the latest models. The mountains of things continue to grow, and each of us keeps developing our own extensive Libraries of Things at home.

We believe, that things and various material goods embody security, prosperity and true HAPPINESS. Just like the man who was once poor, we want to collectively demonstrate that we can afford it, that we have the money, that finally we'll live the good life.

With the money we earn, we desire to buy as much as possible. We buy low-quality things manufactured in Asia and other far-away places, trinkets and baubles, whose life cycle is so short they soon end up on a rubbish heap.

Dry, official numbers say that one resident of Latvia produces 478 kg of waste annually, and this volume continues to grow year-on-year. The wealthier and richer in things we become, the more waste we generate. Waste does not disappear. If during the Soviet period it was incinerated, buried by the ditch or taken away by Norba waste collection trucks, it is still with us physically and in the form of pollution, and will remain with us for hundreds of years. Underground, in waters and polygons.

How did we end up in this ditch of individualism and over-consumption? This golden calf?

Did we earn our freedom only to drive ourselves into a new form of slavery – that of things, and to sell our land, forests, fields for thirty pieces of silver to deforesters, waste management companies or waste incineration businessmen?

About waste. Maija Krastiņa, environmental activist

🏛 Latvijas Nacionālā mākslas muzeja galvenā ēka
🏛 Mākslas muzejs RĪGAS BIRŽA
🏛 Dekoratīvās mākslas un dizaina muzejs
🏛 Izstāžu zāle ARSENĀLS (šobrīd slēgta rekonstrukcijai)
🏛 Romana Sutas un Aleksandras Beļcovas muzejs
🏛 Ekspozīcija “Skulptūru mežs. Antīkās un renesanses tēlniecības nolējumi” Muzeju krātuvē.

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