War for Cybertron - Earthrise Deluxe Class: Rotorstorm

Hasbro, Pawtucket, Rhode Island, United States, circa 2020, Plastic and clear plastic, height: 9.12”

To be dynamic, you must be able to grow and adapt to every situation around you. Rotorstorm is the visual mirror of that same dynamism I aspire to achieve each day.

In 2024, collecting Transformers was a newfound hobby of mine, with each figure reaching new levels of fun. I came across Rotorstorm in a YouTube video and instantly knew I needed him in my collection. However, the price was always over 100 dollars until one fateful June afternoon. An eBay listing for him popped up on my screen for 60 dollars, and from then on, he became the centerpiece of my collection.

That same year, I experienced true heartbreak and, with it, the loss of my dynamism. Rotorstom arrived while I was at my lowest and instantly perked me up. I transformed him into his helicopter mode and flew him all around my dorm room, forgetting the negative thoughts plaguing my mind.

With each pose and transformation, Rotorstom carried a striking resemblance to the version of myself I have always wanted to be: a dynamic individual who can adapt to every situation around me. – Derrick B.

Bathtub

Kohler, Wisconsin, United States, circa 2003, Ceramic, metal, and acrylic, height: 60”

What does it mean to finally stop performing? Every day demands a version of you that is composed, easily understood, and socially presentable. There is almost nowhere in life that releases you from this pressure.

When I lower my body into the basin of this Kohler acrylic bathtub, the self that spends all day being perceived has nothing left to perform. Water presses evenly against the skin from all directions at once, replacing my body’s usual state of readiness with a feeling of suspension. Sound softens in the tub, thoughts become music, and the body stops signaling.

For a teenager who developed anxiety and depression during the pandemic’s isolating years, the tub did not simply offer comfort; it trained me in what it simply meant to exist. The ritual that began in childhood as mere laziness became a form of psychological architecture. Each return to this object was a practice in not necessarily suppressing or resting my social self but temporarily dissolving the conditions that make it necessary.

The tub did not change over time; it kept offering the same enclosure. What changed was the understanding of what that enclosure made possible. – Erin F.

Weekly Pill Case

EZY DOSE, Burnsville, Minnesota, United States, circa 2024, Plastic, width: 6”

Would you think less of someone if they said a single object holds their life together?

Before I had this pill case, living with my disability often felt unpredictable. I struggled with consistency, forgetting whether I had taken my medication or accidentally skipping doses. I felt as if I was fighting a losing battle to regain control over my life. After a severe medical reaction in 2025 caused by a missed dose, the stakes became clear. I knew I needed an anchor to ground me.

That anchor became this simple plastic case. Its bright yellow color and daisy designs do something important for my mental wellbeing: they strip away the sterile, clinical stigma of chronic illness. Instead of avoiding the case as a reminder of my limitations, I am drawn to its warmth, which matters when taking medication can feel like a burden.

My pill case has become part of my daily routine. It helps me stay in control of my health, especially on days when everything else feels chaotic. It gives me a sense of control I can carry into each day. – Bridgit K.

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu White Belt

Cotton, size: A1

A white belt stays white if you do not return to the mat.

In Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, progress begins with learning how to tie the belt, and it continues only if you keep showing up.

Since September, this belt has demanded patience, humility, and a willingness to be outmatched. Blood, sweat, and tears have marked it. During live rolls, it loosens, drags across the mat, and tangles around me and my training partners before coming undone altogether. The fabric has dulled to light gray through constant washing with my black gi. The first stripe Daniel Gracie placed on it in November has faded, frayed, and begun to peel.

This belt places me inside a visible structure of trust, pressure, hierarchy, and care. As a woman in a male-dominated sport, I cannot rely on size or force. For months, I could not submit anyone. Then I caught my first foot lock on a bigger, stronger partner because technique and timing reached him before strength could. At the end of every class, we line up by rank, retie our belts, and shake hands.

This belt does not promise dominance. It rewards persistence, humility, and the courage to return. – Cindy L.

Battered, Black Loafers

Nine West via Buffalo Exchange, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States, circa 2019, Faux leather and rubber, size 8

It can be hard to let go of something you were not prepared to give up on. My black, crocodile skin loafers had walked me to my old restaurant job for almost two years. When I first started, they kept me steady as I navigated this new, tumultuous environment. The loafers empowered me as I found my stride in what felt like a warzone, and it got better. Compliments they received from coworkers led to some of my most treasured friendships; guests would notice them and leave a generous tip. Even my managers admired what became my staple work shoe. I had found my footing, figuratively and literally, and I felt more confident because of it. I loved going to work in my cute loafers.

Then came the culture shift. Leadership changed, seeping into daily operations. Rumors broke out about someone I cared for. The environment became hostile. For months, I tried to let it slide off my back, but it became hard to ignore. Confidence mutated into anxiety; I kept feeling like I was going to fall. So, when the bottoms of my shoes cracked and water began seeping into the soles, I put my two weeks in. – Audra L.

Logitech Pro X Superlight 2 Dex Wireless Gaming Mouse

Logitech, Lausanne, Switzerland, September 17, 2024, Recycled black plastics (55%), height: 1.73”

Despite the Superlight’s impeccable design, I feel guilty. A mouse exists as a pen, a paintbrush, a crosshair, and a tool to navigate the digital world. The Superlight’s design is minimal while also organic, featuring a slick matte black outer shell which provides a natural feeling contour for a hand to rest upon. This ergonomic design is part of the object’s charm along with its impressive weight of only sixty grams. Beneath the countless hours of use that I have had with this mouse, however, grows a sense of guilt that I, as a consumer, have contributed to the growing and seemingly irreversible issue of pollution: more specifically, the plague of plastic. Logitech claims the Superlight is made of 55% recycled plastics. Yet, ultimately, thousands of these mice will find their way into landfills. With so many products, including gaming peripherals like this mouse, being made of plastic, how can we ever seek to recycle more than we waste? The least I can do is use this mouse until it stops working. However, we need greater change beyond the actions of individuals; we need global societal change to our dependency on plastic, for too much is at stake. – Wells L.

Vintage Korean Raschel Blanket

Seoul, South Korea, circa 1970, Polyester, width: 60”

A familiar blanket can reaffirm and structure your beliefs about who you are. Growing up as a half‑Korean, half‑white middle child in Southwest Philly, I often felt I did not belong, my identity never fitting the boxes others created.

This blanket entered my life during that uncertainty. My grandmother had bought it in 1970 in preparation for the family’s move from Korea. Decades later, my mother pulled it from a box and handed it to me, its plush fibers welcoming my embrace. It was aged but resilient, surviving an ocean crossing and decades of movement and storage.

Over time, it became part of my everyday life. I appreciated the beautiful floral designs that do not depict a real species, mattering not as individual forms but as parts of a complete whole. I have since realized I am similarly not defined by any single trait, thought, or memory. I am everything about myself, changing every moment.

The blanket grounds me in that understanding. Its constant reliability and warmth reassure me of my belonging. It reminds me that I am not something in a box, that I have a place within myself, and that I know who I am. – Caleb S-L.

Brookstone Tech Valet Tray

Brookstone Electronics Co., Ltd., China, circa 2019–2022, ABS (Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene) and TPR (Thermoplastic Rubber), height: 2 3/16”

What does a fifteen-dollar plastic tray know about you? More than you have told it.

Through its seven compartments, the tray makes seven assumptions. For example, a compartment sized for AirPods has smooth rounded edges, inviting its user to store something subtle but essential. A deep upright slot cradles the iPhone and keeps it charged for whatever the day may demand. This tray tells the story of a person with places to be and things that cannot be lost. The portrait is now clear — someone organized enough to have a system, and wealthy enough to fill it.

Before this tray had a place in my life, I would lose my wallet, phone, keys, and AirPods. I struggled with my ADHD and the chaos it caused. Losing an essential item was not simply inconvenient — it was genuinely destabilizing. This tray did not simply act as a container in which I stored my necessities. These objects found a home, and through that so did my mind.

For fifteen dollars, Brookstone sold me an identity I never knew I was searching for. The tray prescribed a lifestyle. I filled the prescription. – Aidan L.

Frankie The Fish Toy

Gemmy Industries, Irving, Texas, United States, circa 2009, Plastic, glue, synthetic fabrics, and metal, width: 14”

This Frankie the Fish toy was one of the ways my mom could try to pass down Catholicism to my brother and me. During Lent, she would drive us to McDonald’s to order Filet-O-Fish sandwiches. It was strange that I enjoyed them: at the time I did not like seafood. But that square fish patty with the artificial cheese and a soft squishy bun was undeniably delicious.

Maybe it was the fact that my mom rarely treated us to fast food that sparked our love for this sandwich, or maybe it was this toy she had gotten us for our birthday. Frankie, the singing and dancing mascot for McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish, is marked with stains and cuts he has acquired over years of abuse. His once vibrant turquoise hue has faded over a decade in the closet, and he is unable to perform his iconic jingle. Like my relationship with religion, Frankie has become weathered and forgotten.

Yet, his scratches and imperfections serve as a reminder of the laughs my family shared listening to his song, the meals we ate together, and my mother’s unconditional love. – Joe C.

Floor Lamp (Nilavilakku)

Maker likely from the state of Kerala or Tamil Nadu, India, circa 2025, Brass, height: 10.5”

The first thing my eye catches when I enter our apartment is this brass floor lamp.

I remember the morning before my wedding in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, India. I woke up terrified to meet my partner’s extended family. I assumed my non-Indianness was a topic of gossip and that my background would prevent me from being fully absorbed into the family. I stepped over the threshold of their house, glanced at their nilavilakku (floor lamp) which is lit to bring positive energy into the home, and took a deep breath.

Thankfully, my fears were unfounded. His family cooked for me, took care of me while I was sick, and prepared song and dance performances for us. They trusted us to carry on the important parts of their traditions, gifting us objects like our own nilavilakku. Receiving one as a gift felt like a physical blessing to participate in the rituals that are important to them.

By displaying the lamp at the threshold of our apartment, we are choosing to honor a culture that is now shared, continuing its presence in our life. I am not Indian, but this gift is half mine, a key component of my home. – Caroline K.

Styling Flat Iron

LUV, China, circa 2011, Rubber, plastic, and ceramic, height: 1.5” (iron)

“You will have to style this haircut every day—are you sure you want this?”

Perhaps if I were younger, I would have wavered under my mother’s unimpressed look when I told her I wanted a jellyfish cut, but I remained steadfast. I gripped the gaudy pink plastic base near my face. Heat brushed my cheeks. It felt like a final test in breaking free from my distorted relationship with my hair.

For the 13 years I owned this flat iron, I ignored it in favor of the curling iron that came along with it. Yet no matter how carefully I wrapped each strand, I felt alienated with my reflection, as if I was looking at a stranger. Horrified, I tucked it all away until moving for college made me crave a change.

After years of dismissing the flat iron as useless, my new hairstyle forced me to see it differently. Still, it did not cure my insecurity. Through repeated use of the iron, I began to learn what I liked beyond my mother’s preferences.

As I loop hair strands around the ceramic hot plates, my answer is “yes”: I am perfectly content with styling my hair every day. – Vicky L.

The Beatles Yesterday and Today Cover

Album manufactured and produced by Capitol Records, Los Angeles, California, United States, 1966, Printed cardboard album sleeve with vinyl record, height: 12.25” (sleeve)

What is your favorite memory of music? One of mine is my dad tapping the drum solo of "Wipeout" by the Ventures on my back while I laid belly-down on the carpet as a giggling toddler. That moment stays with me because it was an early spark of a shared lifelong passion. This deeper connection is at the core of why the 1966 Beatles “Butcher Cover” is one of my most treasured objects.

While the Beatles preferred the raw, butcher-forward artwork, their label immediately recalled the albums, pasting over them with mass-market-safe imagery before redistribution. My dad, always one to reject homogenized musicianship in favor of confronting and dynamic artistic endeavors, immediately steamed off the revised cover art when he got the album home. To him, authentic expression matters most, even if it is not easily digested.

Ultimately, this kind of passion did not just shape the importance of music in my own life; it taught me how to dig deeper. This object stands as a physical connection to my dad and our shared love of music, and as a reminder that questioning the mass-produced design we are usually offered can lead to the most incredible and unique finds. – Sarah M.

Colorful Striped Glasses

Outspoken, Brooklyn, New York, United States, circa 2017, Acetate and titanium, width: 5.25”

Every morning I wake up and see a blur of my surroundings. When I am ready to see clearly, I get out of bed and put my contacts in. However, there was once a time when my colorful striped glasses cleared that blur instead.

These glasses gave me vision from age thirteen to nineteen, guiding me through the turbulence of teenhood. They framed my face at football games, homecomings, my high school graduation, and the first day of college. They were an extension of me. I did not know myself without them. Others defined me by them, often seeing the glasses before seeing me.

The day they snapped in two—crushed by the foot of my best friend—a part of my identity was taken away from me. However, after letting my tears stream, freedom flooded in. The snap of the glasses was the slam of the door on my adolescence, but it was also the door opening into my adulthood.

Now, when I wake up to the blur of the world and see my colorful striped glasses as a blob of color on my shelf, I see the ways they shaped and guided me to where I am now. – Maya D.

Stuffed Brown Bear

Hugfun Int’l Inc., Chino, California, United States, circa 2003, Polyester, yarn, fabric, height: 8”

What happens to a stuffed bear after a family separates?

It has been 20 years since I first got this bear. Together, we started in a princess themed room. Now, we live in a one-bedroom apartment in the middle of a big city. The bear safely sits on a dedicated display, surrounded by white flowers and other memorabilia from my childhood. Each item is equally important to me.

Long ago, this small brown bear watched the end of a relationship that was supposed to be forever with the abrupt absence of my biological mother. In my mind, the bear had the same viewpoints I did. It watched a little girl cry, laugh, and grow up. But it also organized my childhood around one question: what do I do with this bear now?

When my mother left, the bear did not mourn. Within the wear of its fur, you will not find nostalgia. You will see the evidence of a child rejecting loneliness. Today, I see it as a biography stitched with fur. Biographies are not obituaries. They do not call for grief. They ask you to see what is no longer there. – Brianna C.

Össur Formfit Air Walker Foot and Ankle Brace 

Össur, Reykjavík, Iceland, circa 2023, Thermoplastic shell, pneumatic air bladder, foam lining, aluminum uprights, and nylon straps, size: medium (women’s US 8.5-11.5), height: 13”

A medical device is like a contract.

This walking boot was prescribed to my partner after she broke her ankle on the way to class. She no longer needs it, but lacking enough closet space, it lives in mine.

Its matte-black shell and velcro straps aspire for invisibility yet cannot truly disappear. It is too bulky, and its steps are too loud. Despite sleepless nights spent fighting the administrative stonewalling of being denied attendance from lab sessions more than halfway through the term, she still strapped into it each morning. She had to withdraw from the class, but it did not mean stopping in her tracks completely.

Instead, she submitted to the boot’s terms. The rocker sole controlled the roll of each footfall, and the air bladder calibrated pressure around the joint. It determined how fast she could move, and at what cost.

In assistive design, the device sets the conditions and the body must comply. Sized for an idealized average, it meant constant negotiation with the boot, tightening straps against swelling, or loosening them on better days. Today, she has outlived its terms, walking past the boundaries of both the device and the institution that failed to accommodate her. – Marcus H.

Skiploom Sitting Cuties Plush

The Pokémon Center, Minato, Tokyo, Japan, 2019, Polyester, Polyethylene, Polyurethane foam, height: 6”

“Why Skiploom? Is he just your favorite or something?”

I never give the answer I want to give. The venue is loud, my focus is elsewhere, the next round is up, and I am already moving towards my table; such are the motions at every Pokémon Tournament I attend as a full-fledged professional VGC player.

“I saw the Skiploom and knew it was you!”

Sometimes the people I sit around recognize you and strike up conversation with me as I make it to my seat.

In-between the games, I cannot help but find myself glancing over at you on the table for just a second. There is an unshakable smile tucked between your stubby arms and an overtly large flower. You are frankly absurd looking but honest, so I smile back. Win or lose, I am content.

Perhaps it is ridiculous to be so carefree when there are thousands of dollars at stake. To be in the moment though, enjoying the game with my friends and family, is what I realize drives me—what makes me smile. Perhaps that conclusion would have come naturally without you, but I am glad you are along for the ride to smile with me. – James E.

L’Oréal Paris, Colour Riche Lipstick, 810 Sandstone

North Little Rock, Arkansas, United States, circa 2013, Plastic and metal, height: 3”

I hold on to this L’Oréal lipstick because I know my grandmother had to work hard to gift it to me. It inspires me to work hard, too.

In my earliest memories of my grandmother, she worked at a cosmetics factory where she eventually became a manager. She was under 4’10” tall, with a soft, sweet, and quiet voice, but she had a strong spirit. This lipstick is seemingly innocuous, with a warm beige casing, reflective gold belt, magnetic closure, and pinkish-brown pigment. Its worn barcode sticker, faded markings, and lightly scratched surface reveal the object’s age and the rough journey it has taken throughout the years as I worked in different cities.

As an immigrant from India who came to the United States later in life, my grandmother worked tirelessly at the factory while raising a family and caring for countless relatives and friends. She built a strong community, which was evident in the many people who attended and spoke at her funeral in December.

This lipstick is a reminder of my grandmother’s selflessness and of the importance of caring for the greater good while investing in the lives of my community and loved ones, just as she did. – Shruti G.

FlashForge Adventurer 5M Pro 3D Printer

Zhejiang Flashforge 3D Technology Co., Ltd., Zhejiang, China, circa 2024, Plastic, metal, and paint, height: 14.29”

When a voice is lost or obstructed, how can it be retrieved? Sometimes you just need a little support from those close to you.

I wake up on Christmas morning to see the plentiful pile of gifts spread around the tree. I eagerly go through them one by one, eventually reaching the largest gift. I grab it and rip it open, revealing a cardboard box. Confused at first, I eventually realized that it is a 3D printer. My jaw drops to the floor as I stare at my parents in awe. I glance back to take in the black matte finish of the printer’s boxy exterior.

After a quick set up, my eyes become glued to the printer. I hear the whirr of the nozzle and the hum of the fans. I am enthralled by the machine’s sheer speed and accuracy. My brother and I stare at the tiny boat we received from the printer’s efforts, in shock at how quickly it was produced. Realizing the power I have, I am ecstatic. Ideas rush through my head and I begin printing things in quick succession, breaking me out of my art block and helping me rediscover my voice. – Ryan D.

Retro Typewriter Coaster Set

The Lakeside Collection, Lincolnshire, Illinois, United States, circa 2017, Ceramic, metal and rubber, height: 3”

When you drink as much tea as someone from a Russian immigrant family, reaching for hot drink coasters becomes a recurring automatic behavior, like reaching for a phone. But what happens when that seemingly innocuous reach peppers your body with jolts of fierce appreciation and discomfort at the same time?

These typewriter-shaped coasters were given to me by a dear friend who now lives far away.

She gifted this set to me when I finished the manuscript of a book I was translating. Feeling the bumpy typewriter keys, I still feel recognized by her as a writer, which is important to me, despite my career change.

Yet, something bothers me about the set’s aesthetic. An authentically old-style item I can appreciate for its craft and history. But an Amazon.com item made to appear retro causes me to squirm. I feel suspicious—is the design a result of its producer’s true appreciation for artifacts of the past or only a ploy to profit off nostalgia?

Despite my misgivings, I will continue to use the coasters. Handling their communication-themed shape reminds me of my desire to keep in touch with that friend as well as of my identity as a translator. – Yehudit D.

Lamb Stuffed Animal

Circa 2003, Polyester, terrycloth, and plastic, height: 6”

What does it mean that the object I have kept longest does nothing at all?

Lambchop has no batteries, lacks moving parts, and serves no educational purpose. In a market that insists children’s toys must stimulate or instruct, Lambchop is stubbornly inert. And yet she has been instrumental in my growth and development in ways I am only beginning to measure.

Her inertness is what makes her useful. Because Lambchop offered nothing on her own, I employed her in different roles: as playmate, source of comfort, and in her final form, an eye mask. She demanded imagination at every stage, and my imagination answered.

Twenty-three years of use have left their mark. Lambchop’s chest is flattened from being held, her fur slightly matted and pilled. Her front hooves are riddled with frayed holes from when I was teething on them as an infant, tangible evidence that our relationship began long before I spoke any language. Her three distinctly different fabrics each react uniquely to use over time. Lambchop never changed, but I changed around her. Her greatest lesson required nothing from her at all. – Ella F.

Tortilla Napkin

Esther Escamilla, Texcatepec, Hidalgo, Mexico, 2015, Cotton, width: 18”

As an artist and interior designer, I often see my grandmother’s influence in my own work. My grandmother and I both rely on attention to detail to turn simple materials into something meaningful.

My grandmother made this tortilla napkin in Hidalgo, Mexico, where my parents were born. The region where my family comes from has strong Otomí roots, especially in language and textiles. I do not speak Otomí or know how to embroider, but I do connect to these traditions by touching the cloth and sensing and experiencing it.

Traditionally, this napkin is usually used to cover tortillas during outdoor meals. It is both practical and decorative. Even though its purpose is simple, it represents a type of domestic design that is often overlooked and seen as a utilitarian object rather than as real art or design.

Those qualities can be applied to my design work, which also requires creativity and deep attention. The napkin’s ability to serve a practical purpose reflects a principle I can apply to my design disciplines. Also, this embroidery is beautiful and made with care, love, and dedication for my family.

Through this napkin, I understand that creativity, like tradition, can be inherited across generations. – Ivonne P.

Valentine’s Day Teddy Bear

Circa 2024, Synthetic plush fabric, fiber, and plastic, height: 14”

Although this teddy bear is a mass-produced Valentine’s Day gift, the year stitched onto its paw transforms it into a timestamp.

When I received this bear from my boyfriend, I was a graphic design student who doubted whether I was talented enough to build the career and life I wanted. Every Valentine’s Day since, I could count on receiving another bear in this series. That consistency contrasted with the instability I felt in other parts of my life. Job applications went unanswered, my confidence shifted from day to day, and my grades, finances, and mood often felt unpredictable.

While these bears were a constant gift, my life did not feel constant at all. The “2024” on this bear’s paw reconnects me to a period when I wanted reassurance that I was capable of achieving my goals.

Now, this bear serves as a reminder of how far I have come. I have begun the career I once worried I would never reach, and I trust my ability to create the future I want. The steady presence of these gifts reflects not only the consistency of my relationship, but the confidence I have gained in myself. – Maya W.

Vintage Boby Trolley

Joe Colombo, Milan, Italy, circa 1970, Plastic and metal, height: 29”

Although my mother’s and my artistic paths are different, our Vintage Boby Trolley connects both of our experiences. To me, the trolley exemplifies good design because it can be adapted to support a wide range of artmaking. This object has served two artists across generations, changing alongside our creative needs while remaining useful and meaningful.

My mother bought this trolley secondhand in the 1990s to organize her painting supplies. Its drawers held paintbrushes, paint tubes, pencils, and other materials. When I started college, she passed it on to me. As a digital artist, I no longer need storage for traditional art supplies, so I transformed the trolley into a makeup vanity. The same drawers that once held my mother's paintbrushes now store makeup brushes, palettes, and cosmetics.

Despite this change in use, the trolley continues to support creative expression. Its transformation from an artist's organizer to a personal creative workspace illustrates how design can remain meaningful across generations while adapting to new forms of creativity. I view makeup as an art form because it uses color, technique, and self-expression to create a visual result. By using the trolley in this way, I continue its creative purpose through a different medium. – Jillian R.

Clamp Lamp

Bayco Products Wylie, Texas, United States, Aluminum and plastic, diameter: 6.5”

One day, my roommate, Lucas, brought home a lamp that he clipped to our bookshelf.

The tungsten light cascaded across the living room making everything visually coherent but relaxing at the same time. The room became a common place for my roommates and me. Opposed to relaxing in our rooms, we would do so out in the living room.

Before the lamp, we only had the overhead lights in our living room. They were sterile, bright, and blinding. This made the room a place only used for tasks like cooking, cleaning, and washing clothes. When we would turn off the overhead lights, we were in complete darkness. This made our living room feel cold and lifeless. It was not a place for relaxation; my room was still my only haven.

But when the lamp was introduced, a world was made and the light became the center of it. Our living room became a space that we actually lived in. Suddenly, quick cooked meals turned into full course ones and a hastily packed bag meant to go with us to the library stayed put and the study session happened right here.

The living room was alive. – Niles J.

Interlocking Forest Trio Keychain (Raccoon)

Pookatdinocrafts, Columbus, Ohio, circa 2025, Wood and metal, height: 2 ⅛”

Before heading outside, I remember to grab my keys sitting on the half wall beside the dorm suite front door. Dangling alongside my key is my wooden keychain of a raccoon laying comfortably on its side. The fading smell of burning wood from its laser cut edges still pierces my nose now a year after the summer of my sophomore year. That was the summer where two friends I have known for years and I met in person for the very first time. We merely spent a week together, but the week will last a lifetime in our memories. To commemorate that time, I gifted a set of interlocking keychains to us all. We each took our forest animal keychain, hugged, and left for home at the end of the week. While it may seem unorthodox to see your friends so rarely, they can leave an impact on you all the same. The raccoon, with its two missing companions, shares its isolation with me. I know, however, that no matter the distance, we will always be in touch with one another. I place the keychain made of warm, maple wood into my pocket and continue on my day. – Skylar T.

Royal Tragedy Playing Cards

The United States Playing Card Company, Erlanger, Kentucky, United States, circa 2021, Cardstock and ink, height: 4”

Want to play cards?

My friends all light up with smiles and begin to sit around a table in the cafeteria. I pull out this deck of cards from my backpack and begin to shuffle. As I deal and we begin to play, we catch up on the couple of hours we have not seen each other.

This deck of cards facilitates more than just a vast assortment of games, but the community that is built around them. With my friends from high school, taking out this deck signals a long overdue reunion. It also means that we all must take off our rings out of fear of injuring our hands when playing slap-based games.

The cards helped me build a support system that has been there for me through my struggles with mental health.

Playing cards means that things are better.

Although we are no longer playing cards in the cafeteria, I continue to bring this deck with me wherever we all meet up to reunite. – Michaela K.

Radeon ATI HD 3450

ATI Technologies, Markham, Ontario, Canada, December 10th, 2007, FR-4 fiberglass, epoxy resin, copper, silicon, gold, tin-silver-copper solder, tantalum, ABS plastic, aluminum, and steel, height: .5”

Someone spent years in academia so that I could spend my time in another world.

Before I understood this graphics card, I lived inside what a similar object made possible. Before the glow of a CRT monitor, I sat at 6 years old and immersed myself in video games rendered by an artifact exactly like this one. I did not know how these games were rendered. I just knew these digital worlds cultivated my love for video games.

That love eventually demanded an explanation. The Radeon ATI HD 3450 is the amalgamation of an unnamed engineer’s knowledge of material science and electrical theory compressed into this device to render graphics. That engineer was once a college student, sitting in unglamorous lectures accumulating knowledge that would eventually inspire a child to become a game designer.

I study 3D game design now, learning the same patient discipline. My slow accumulation of knowledge will one day converge into something a child plays. Perhaps that child will fall in love and appreciate video games as an art form like I did. That is the goal: pouring years of wisdom into a foundation so that someone else can build a childhood on top of it. – Isaiah S.

Bunny Stuffed Animal

Build-A-Bear, Corpus Christi, Texas, United States, circa 2014, Polyester and cotton, height: 16”

I believe that loving something to the point of gradual deterioration is its own form of preservation.

Frayed threads on the nose and mouth, a greyish pink and brown faded color, torn and unraveled tags, and matted fur around the seams and eyes—this is what I see when I look at this stuffed animal. However, with every flaw, I am reminded of the moments that produced those flaws in the first place. The compressed body, a product of a decade spent as a childhood pillow, also carries the weight of my first nights alone at a college 1,200 miles from home. Wrapped between my arms, this bunny was the only familiar thing I had and provided a small source of comfort with each squeeze.

For some, this kind of wear and tear is a sign that an object has served its purpose and is ready to be discarded. Yet, for me they serve as a record of this object’s existence in my life. So, while keeping an object in its original, pristine condition will help to preserve the object, the imperfections created along the way will preserve the memories. – Ashleigh L.

Latitude 7390

Dell, Round Rock, Texas, United States, circa 2018, Plastic, glass, and metal, width: 12”

This high-school tablet ensured I did not experiment with my art for 6 years. Learning digital art for the first time on it, and the early success that garnered me, made me feel pressured to keep that perceived quality. Clearly, if I wanted to improve, I just needed to keep doing the same thing: use that tablet to keep drawing the same pieces I have always drawn. If it worked before, it will work again.

Rejection is terrifying. What if my art stopped receiving that praise I sought so much? I spent the duration of my high school years chasing that high. When I graduated, I looked back on my work. While my peers were unafraid of failure and pushing themselves to new heights, I never grew my skills. I had been drawing the exact same objects, props, and machinery, and I was disappointed at what I had to show for it.

Every day, I make new efforts to push myself beyond the perceived safety of that drawing tablet. I have tried new mediums, new workflows, and have found work I really love when moving away from this tablet. I needed that experience to grow myself as an artist. – Evan B.

Generation 1 Shockwave Transformer

ToyCo/Hasbro, Japan, 1983, Plastic and metal, height: 8.75”

Do we ever truly outgrow the things that make us happy? I had recently turned thirteen and thought I was getting too old for toys when my father said he had a gift for me. I gratefully accepted the gift, knowing that anything that was given to me by my father was to be cherished. Nothing could have prepared me for when he gave me his first–generation Shockwave Transformers toy. He told me that my grandparents bought it for him when he was younger. The toy is modeled after an evil robot who transformed into a gun. Because of the controversy around this, by the time my father gifted me it, the toy was no longer in circulation for purchase. This made the toy extremely valuable. My father knew how much this toy was probably worth, but when I asked him why he gave it to me he said, “Because I thought you’d like it.” This toy connects us through our personal interests. Gifting it to me was him reminding me to never let go of the things that make me happy. – Andre G.

Ceramic Chick Egg Cup

Pasabahce, Istanbul, Türkiye, circa 2015, Ceramic and glaze, height: 2.75”

When I look at this egg cup, I am reminded of the summer I spent with my grandparents in Ukraine. The cup transports me to my grandparents’ chicken coop, to their antiquated kitchen where baba served me hardboiled eggs each morning, and to the village farmers market where dido and I watched the pigeons: places that I will likely never again visit.

Ultimately, the egg cup is a concave ceramic designed to symbolize an animal. In the same way that the object does not inherently need to hold an egg, the memories it triggers do not have to be my own; the connection it facilitates does not have to be cultural. This object is molded intellectually by the relationships it fosters.

Likewise, the cup molds the user. Its shape and design try to trick me into believing it can only be used to hold a hardboiled egg. Through that belief, I begin to imagine a world in which I am eight years old, chasing chickens barefoot in a dirt coop and breathing in peaceful, grassy, Ukrainian air. I am grateful that the things physically and temporally far away then become not so far after all. – Anna B.

Digital Camera

Camkory, China, circa 2023, Plastic, silicone, and glass, height: 2.3”

“Wait! Pause!” The shutter clicks. There is a flash of light, barely breaking the darkness. The digital camera is slick in my hands, condensation and sweat making my fingers glide over silver buttons. I click once, twice, then a third.

The camera is a staple of my tote bag now. The grainy façade of each photo reminds me of the little moments my brain struggles to visualize: the curve of friends’ smiles, the shimmering outfits carefully concocted, and the warmth of bodies pressed together as we talked mindlessly. I see the way their eyes light up when I pull out the camera, and I know they see mine do the same as I click through the photos.

The camera reminds me of the beautiful things my brain can only relay to me in fuzzy black-and-white silhouettes. With this camera, I see sun-dappled sidewalks and painted murals and the glint of my friends’ favorite jewelry—I  see moments worth living for. – Aliyah V.