In trouble times, throughout my life, I have always turned to objects as a way of grounding myself, marking a moment, or staying connected to something—or someone—important. A ring passed down from my mother worn after her passing to keep her close to me, a childhood teddy bear that never left my side, a hand-knitted jumper that held memories. These objects are more than just things; they carry stories, emotions, and meaning.
The process of knitting and making art also became a way to steady myself, the rhythmic act of making offered solace and time to reflect during difficult times. And this is something I have also seen within my professional life too. I have worked for Crisis as a lead artist as well as outreach artist working with people sleeping rough, I witnessed the power of art to transform moments, to build confidence, and to help people process their experiences.
Creativity is not just an act of making—it is a way of thinking, a tool for reflection, and a means of self-expression.
My PhD research explored how we might individualise the unidentified dead—people without names, without clear histories from the belongings that they die with. I noticed how many carried small, seemingly unremarkable objects that hinted at their pasts, or their connections to others. A plastic “Winner” medal from a school sports day. A compact mirror with an image of Disney’s Belle. A birthday card signed ‘To Pat, from Jeff’ or a postcard from Germany. These objects weren’t just functional—they were meaningful and personal to that person, and, in their own way, transitional.
This deep connection between objects, memory, and identity is at the heart of Shifting States. The act of creating, holding, or carrying an object can provide comfort, mark change, and help us navigate the shifting moments in our lives. I invite you to explore the power of transitional objects—those small, significant things that help us make sense of who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going.
