This is not a space for observation. It is a space for participation, interruption, and return.
We ask objects to hold us — to contain our memories, absorb our gestures, witness our habits — without ever asking how they respond. This installation begins with that quiet imbalance and lingers in its tension. It invites you to rearrange, replant, displace. To leave a mark, or be marked in return.
The work moves through the territory of objectophilia — where attachment to objects is often pathologized, dismissed, or misunderstood. Nothing is resolved here. The attachment is simply left to do what it does.
The object does not speak, but it remembers. It collects residue. It holds warmth. It waits.
Traces of Contact is not a question of whether objects can be loved — but a reflection on how they come to hold us, quietly, repeatedly, without asking permission.
