In her new body of work, Rosie turns the camera away from other people and toward objects, most of them consumable, and most of them hers: a vibrator, high heels, a Zoloft prescription with her legal name legible on the bottle, her husband’s cigarettes, a thong, her wedding ring, the dried bouquet she walked down the aisle with. Printed onto bubble wrap, the objects blur into something stranger: a vibrator reads as a spaceship, high heels become monolithic. It’s an intimate, anxious attempt at a self portrait, one that asks whether the objects we surround ourselves with reveal us or replace us.
Clements works in UV-printed photographs on bubble wrap, using the packaging material as a metaphor for how both goods and images are consumed and discarded. Her practice examines desire and ephemerality within digital culture, where social feeds and consumer cycles have reshaped how we relate to beauty and identity.

“When I make a photograph I’m trying to keep something,” she says, “But the image is always just the idea of what was in front of me. When I push it onto plastic through UV printing, it dissolves even further. What remains is closer to a trace than a record, a memory of a form rather than the form itself.”