Hunting
I've been looking at a lot of apartments lately - there's something so odd about looking into some one else's domaine when they're not there and trying to imagine superimposing your life on it. You see how people create a world, filled with memorabilia and mess. Something about creating an identity through objects... but then it gets wiped clean when you move on, leaving a blank slate for the next occupant. But the space bears the scars of the previous person, holes in the walls where pictures hung, odd packages of leftover food in the cupboards, a handprint on a doorframe...
How we make our mark on our immediate world, what we chose to clean up and hide and what we don't even notice as our effect.