An Everyday Cloud reflects on the slippery moments that link personal memories to the objects and images we archive. These works arise out of an intuitive investigation into the stories our collections might tell. They are a tribute to the passage of time and the traces it leaves on our objects and our selves. The process was an unearthing of memories and their objects, objects and their memories, as ritual and artistic practice—opening a long-sealed box, developing an unknown roll of film, remembering details, attempting to thread them together only to miss the needle’s eye, and then giving it another go.

Various presentation devices, such as tables, plinths, and hooks, activate the works’ multiple nature. A box with hinges on all sides reveals hidden compartments housing dozens of woodblocks. A light table dapples a threadbare comforter out of a stack of prints. A cloth napkin imprinted on paper sees a shift in its worth—it has left a trace, and there are copies.  Every image more-than-once. I am driven to collect them as if to offset some—including my own—impermanence.

There is a casual performance component as I am present with the works. I handle, place, move, and sort the images. Touch, a careful and slowed pace, as well as my sustained and attentive presence impart meaning to them. The stories they tell are never the same twice—they are made as they are moved, broken as they are moved, and they have no end.

Memories—and the stories they move in—are malleable.