Our memories are very fragile. Over time, they weaken, dissolve, and leave behind only images, sounds, scents, moments, and emotions. In this context, I chose foam as the medium for my project. Its pure eight-bit structure, when broken, creates the sensation of a digital object with pixelated distortion or white noise—something we have grown accustomed to seeing but not touching. It is lightweight yet resilient, much like emotions, which can make the images in our minds heavy and difficult to perceive. Foam also crumbles over time, becoming less tangible or even disintegrating into particles that can never be fully reassembled.
All the information in our memory, akin to digital objects, is loaded from a server—sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. We catch ourselves thinking that data is lost. Perhaps not irretrievably, but over time, we may glean fragments, latch onto them, and attempt to construct a chronology from the pieces.
These reflections immerse us in a state reminiscent of where we once were—our past. It can accompany us throughout our lives or vanish abruptly. However, there is never a guarantee that memories won’t resurface, even after a long time.
The exhibition objects, like a digital projection, create a space where viewers can engage with the material and fragile world of memories. Together with the visual sculptures and installations, they serve as reminders of moments we might forget. Nostalgia allows us to see how memories become part of our identity.