Between 1985 and 2007, the square footage of self-storage facilities in the United States grew 740 percent, and driving the freeways of Southern California, this growth was evident. The incredible expansion was spurred by Americans’ accumulation of things, gluttony of the material form.

As I drove past storage facilities, I started thinking about what was behind those garage doors and padlocks. It occurred to me that the warehouses weren’t full of meaningless “stuff”—they were the repository for all kinds of memories that people weren’t willing to part with. Old furniture inherited from the recently deceased. Boxes of old love letters. Books and LPs and photographs. In this project, I look for the beauty in these places, imagining what’s behind closed doors.