The Ethics Of Using Found Materials (Bones, Trash, The Bizarre):
Or, How to Be a Scavenger, a Saint, and a Shameless Bastard—All at Once
Let’s cut the small talk: If you’re making art from bones, rusty screws, graveyard glass, or whatever strange debris the world coughs up, you’re playing with fire—legally, morally, and sometimes spiritually. And I mean that in the best possible way. Because making something beautiful (or terrifying, or just plain weird) from the world’s leftovers isn’t just eco-friendly, punk, and subversive—it’s a dare to everyone who ever told you art should be “nice.”
But with every found object comes a trail of questions nobody at the craft store ever answers. Whose bones? Whose trash? Where did it come from, and what right do you have to give it new life—or a new death—on your canvas or pedestal? This is the honest, unvarnished guide to the ethics, survival hacks, legal gray areas, and dirty little secrets of working with found materials. No fluff, no guilt-tripping, no moralizing. Just real talk, so you can create without accidentally pissing off the law, your neighbors, or the spirits of the dead.
1. Why Use Found Materials at All?
(The Glory and the Dirt)
Authenticity: Every piece tells a real story. Weathered wood, bone, a shattered doll—these things have scars, and scars are sexy.
Resourcefulness: Art supplies are expensive. The sidewalk is free.
Rebellion: There’s something wickedly satisfying about using what “shouldn’t” be used—turning waste into treasure, taboo into statement.
Eco-Warrior Street Cred: Upcycling and reusing = fewer trees murdered for canvas, less plastic clogging the ocean, and a world with fewer ugly “Live Laugh Love” signs.
The Shock Factor: Bones on the wall, trash in the frame—if you do it right, people look twice. And that’s half the damn battle.
2. The Dirty Reality: Where Are You Getting Your Stuff?
(And Is It Yours to Take?)
Bones:
Animal bones: Most legal, but not always. Roadkill? Check your state and local laws—some places treat it like hazardous waste. Taxidermists and butchers are good sources, but ask. If it smells like a crime scene, you’re doing it wrong.
Human bones: Just don’t, unless you want a visit from the FBI. Antique medical specimens and Victorian relics may be legal, but always check provenance (and your conscience).
Clean your bones: Boil, bleach, disinfect, and respect. Nobody likes art that gives you tetanus.
Trash and Street Finds:
Dumpster diving: Legal in many U.S. places if not posted or locked, but trespassing is trespassing. Don’t break and enter for a box of wire hangers.
Curb finds: If it’s at the curb, it’s probably fair game. But if you’re not sure, ask. Or leave a note, especially in small towns where everyone knows everyone’s business.
Hazardous waste: Batteries, electronics, paint cans—don’t poison yourself or your audience. Research safe handling or just pass it up.
“Borrowed” from Nature:
Sticks, stones, shells: Parks and public lands are often off-limits. Stealing from nature reserves gets you real bad juju (and fines). Forage on your own property, or with permission.
Feathers and nests: Many are protected under federal law (Migratory Bird Treaty Act in the US). Pick up a crow feather and you could be breaking the law. Yes, seriously.
3. Ethics Without the Hallmark Card
A. Respect Your Source
Every found object has a backstory, even if you invent half of it. Treat bones with the same respect you’d give a portrait subject. Trash, too—somebody used that, lost that, maybe even loved it.
Ask yourself: Am I exploiting, celebrating, or just being lazy? (If you’re making “bone jewelry” from a pet cemetery, you already know you’re in the wrong.)
B. Consent and Cultural Appropriation
Don’t steal sacred objects, grave goods, or culturally significant artifacts. What’s art to you might be an ancestor to someone else.
Research before using materials with religious or historical significance. If in doubt, make your own damn bones from resin or clay.
C. Transparency
Be upfront about what you use and where you found it. Buyers, viewers, and critics appreciate honesty. Plus, it heads off awkward questions later.
Sign and label your art with the true story. “Found on Cherry Street, 2024. Bone is deer, not human. Trash courtesy of Taco Bell.”
4. Ingredient Hacks and Survival Strategies
Clean Everything: Bleach, sand, boil, scrub, seal. Nobody wants bugs or diseases hitching a ride in your work. Use gloves, masks, and common sense.
Prep for Permanence: Bones get brittle, metals rust, plastics degrade. Seal, varnish, or stabilize as needed—especially if you want to sell.
Document the Find: Snap photos of your materials in situ. Makes a great process story, and covers your ass if someone claims you stole grandma’s silver.
Mix With Traditional Media: Use found materials as accents, not just centerpieces—add paint, ink, resin, or textiles to fuse “trash” with technique.
Tell the Story: The weirder the object, the more you should share. Let your audience in on the find—give them a piece of the hunt.
5. The Grayest Areas: Law, Guilt, and Ghosts
Legal Hazards: If you’re selling or shipping, check laws on animal products, hazardous materials, and antiques. Customs loves to confiscate “weird art.”
Ethical Dilemmas: If it feels icky, it probably is. Trust your gut, but also educate it—learn the difference between respectful reuse and cultural theft.
Superstitions: Some artists swear bones bring ghosts, bad luck, or curses. Whether you believe or not, respect the energy of what you’re using.
Confession:
I’ve made art with bones found on walks, glass from an abandoned insane asylum, and scraps of lost letters fished from the gutter. Some pieces felt haunted, some felt holy, and a few just made me itch. Every single one taught me something about the world, and myself.
6. The Final Dare: Use the Bizarre—But Use It Well
Found materials are the rawest form of artistic rebellion. They’re dirty, loaded, complicated, and never neutral. If you’re brave enough to use them, be brave enough to do it right—ethically, honestly, and with enough skill to turn trash and taboo into something worth remembering.
Because the best art
doesn’t come from the store—
it comes from the world’s lost,
broken, forgotten,
and forbidden things—
and from artists
who dare to dig deeper
than everyone else.