“That's the kind of creatures we are. The mind can't hold it. So instead, we keep a little thing around to look at.”

- David Kestenbaum, This American Life episode 776: I Work Better on Deadline

We all carry memories with us

The watch that your parents gave to you when you graduated.

The jumper that you ended up with that belonged to someone you love.

A postcard or a letter from a time when you weren’t even a spark of a thought in a brain.

A photograph of them - one that conjures a mix of sweet nostalgia and a pang of heartache for something lost.

The necklace you wear every day, or the ring you can hardly bear to look at but can never throw away.

The recipe that sustained your family, the place you go to find quiet comfort.

The card in your wallet with a hand-written note in the margins,

The trinket you hold for good luck or reassurance or guidance,

The tattoo you got to mark the moment your life shifted gears and changed trajectory. The scars of a tattoo removed or covered up.

As you’re reading this, maybe something popped into your mind - an item that you’ve always been aware of, but never thought of it in this way.

These are the relics we carry - artefacts from a different time, items so drenched in memory that they can, for a brief moment, push through the membrane of time that separates now from then. Our feelings, our stories and our identity can so easily transcend into objects. We carry them to remember a person, a place, a lesson or a philosophy. Their importance isn’t measured in dollars, but in sentiment.

To a passer-by they may be meaningless; to the holder, there may be nothing more important.

Some of them become an affectation - part of how we display ourselves publicly. Others come with us, unspoken. A secret we hold close to our heart, warm and safe.

We all have them.

Relics can be inherited or created. Meaning can be applied to things already in existence, or you can bring about an object imbued with meaning for yourself. I asked the incredible Alanna at Cut Off Your Hands to make this ring for me, when I’d taken 500 portraits for my 1000 Portrait Project. This was right after it arrived; the ring is now scratched and tarnished, marked from the hundreds of days I’ve worn it.
*Photo by Kris Koper.*

This ongoing project invites you to share your relic with the world.

Tell me about your relic - what it is and, more importantly, what it is to you - then let’s organise a time to talk on camera to share it with the world, anonymously - or not.

This project will be displayed through photos, video and audio.