When I come across a discarded or broken plastic toy, I don’t simply see waste. I see the imagination, ingenuity, and intention of the product designers, engineers, and marketers who once set out to create something that would inspire play, curiosity, and learning in a child.

There is a certain irony in the life cycle of these objects. A toy may deliver a fleeting moment of joy, excitement, and discovery, yet leave behind a legacy that far outlasts the experience of play itself. Often manufactured from materials that are difficult, if not impossible, to recycle, these objects may persist in our environment for generations long after their original purpose has been forgotten.

For approximately 15 years, I have been collecting broken and discarded plastic toys, disposable razor blades, and other non-recyclable plastic objects with the intention of eventually transforming them into a found-object assemblage.

My inspiration came in 2005 from the work of artist Leo Sewell, particularly an aluminum duck sculpture I encountered at the Fuller Craft Museum in Brockton, Massachusetts. I was captivated by the opportunity to examine the individual objects up close, studying their forms and details while imagining their original purpose.

What fascinated me was the history embedded in these seemingly ordinary objects. Each piece of aluminum had once been carefully conceived, engineered, cast in sand, or stamped from metal, then brought to life through the skill and craftsmanship of the people who made it.

I began to see these discarded materials differently—not simply as remnants of manufactured products, but as objects with their own histories, design intentions, and untapped artistic potential.

Below is my artistic interpretation of a heterochromia Maine Coon cat made from mostly broken and discarded plastic objects and some functioning that are difficult to donate.