Hidden in the kitchen. This object was swallowed by the flat. It was such a coincidence that I found it. No one uses it; the emotional attachment to this object is tied to the flat itself. The memory is not given by a person, but dissolves on the tacky surface.
This
was lying on the window sill. It was resting there, chilling and breathing softly, almost untouched, belonging to the person who no longer lives here. I am thinking whether she forgot this very hard-to-identify object that looks like a bat for spageti.
was lying on the window sill. It was resting there, chilling and breathing softly, almost untouched, belonging to the person who no longer lives here. I am thinking whether she forgot this very hard-to-identify object that looks like a bat for spageti.
In the corner of the living room, you stand like
Cold, tarnished, almost rusty surface. A holder for wine, but you probably haven’t seen a bottle for a while. Another object forgotten by someone who used to live here before. Unattached.
Cold, tarnished, almost rusty surface. A holder for wine, but you probably haven’t seen a bottle for a while. Another object forgotten by someone who used to live here before. Unattached.
Some
but this rose has never been alive. Is it a trophy, or was it a puzzle that was a pleasure to put together? A beautiful creation, so bright, sharp, and made of cardboard. It does not follow the sun; it stands upright.
but this rose has never been alive. Is it a trophy, or was it a puzzle that was a pleasure to put together? A beautiful creation, so bright, sharp, and made of cardboard. It does not follow the sun; it stands upright.
Occupied by other stuff. left out on the window sill. It belongs to the flat. Dust is sitting on the surface and makes is scruffy. it wasn’t used for a long time probably. in my imagination it becomes a part of the flat. it is almost merging together.
I didn’t realize it was actually in the kitchen. Surrounded by things and it was kinda part of the candle holder. it looked so cenected, as a one object. it us obviously unused, i think it was brought here with the intention to plant the flowers, but it lookes like it was planted to old
Who you are? Is it the true that you had been
which is holding plants, suppports them but now? Why are you here? You are just looking at me and you suspect all do something with you.
which is holding plants, suppports them but now? Why are you here? You are just looking at me and you suspect all do something with you.
who do you belong to? At first glance, there is only you. Your sticky surface, covered with dust, you are so small and made from plastic. You rolled down under the table.
where are you hanging, and when were you last used? Metal wires stick out of you. You were not swallowed by the flat; you have become a sculpture lost in time.
Roses are not red anymore.
in the frame will always be a reminder of the person who is not living here. Just as the color of the roses has faded, so has their owner left forever. All the roses are placed in the frame. Behind the glass, you can see the remnants of love. From behind the glass, the wilted flowers observe the changes of new encounters, but not the person to whom they were given.
in the frame will always be a reminder of the person who is not living here. Just as the color of the roses has faded, so has their owner left forever. All the roses are placed in the frame. Behind the glass, you can see the remnants of love. From behind the glass, the wilted flowers observe the changes of new encounters, but not the person to whom they were given.
New species. It appeared here recently:
small colors and brushes. It brings joy to the person who lives here now. A white, cute mug, ready for colors that make it beautiful. Painting the mug makes time feel relaxing, and the mug seems to enjoy the touch of the brush. It is almost like a co-creation.
small colors and brushes. It brings joy to the person who lives here now. A white, cute mug, ready for colors that make it beautiful. Painting the mug makes time feel relaxing, and the mug seems to enjoy the touch of the brush. It is almost like a co-creation.
Oh look, there is another new species: this
a gold medal made of plastic. The light reflects off its surface, almost reflecting the importance of the object. Such an important day. Do you remember? Of course you do—the smell and how much you laughed.
It will always stay in your mind and remain attached to this object.
a gold medal made of plastic. The light reflects off its surface, almost reflecting the importance of the object. Such an important day. Do you remember? Of course you do—the smell and how much you laughed.
It will always stay in your mind and remain attached to this object.
You are the holder of memory,
Even though dust sticks to you, you mean so much, though I cannot understand it. But what specific memory do you hold? Standing on the table, you will never be thrown out.
Even though dust sticks to you, you mean so much, though I cannot understand it. But what specific memory do you hold? Standing on the table, you will never be thrown out.
so many emotionally charged objects. So glad to have you here. The shine of the birthday hat reminds us of the amazing night when they were drinking and laughing. It is very important, in the rush of everyday life, to remind the person from this flat how much she enjoyed it.
A small
on the window sill catching the afternoon sun. Light passes through it, bending and shifting, turning something ordinary into a flicker of color and brightness. From the window, it holding the sunlight inside itself, then letting it spill out again in soft, changing patterns. It belongs to one of my flatmates; she found it at a market, tucked among other simple things. Now it sits here, transforming the light.
on the window sill catching the afternoon sun. Light passes through it, bending and shifting, turning something ordinary into a flicker of color and brightness. From the window, it holding the sunlight inside itself, then letting it spill out again in soft, changing patterns. It belongs to one of my flatmates; she found it at a market, tucked among other simple things. Now it sits here, transforming the light.