Holding On: An Exploration of Time, Identity, and the Objects We Leave Behind

Time is often thought of as linear—a path moving forward, demanding that we leave pieces of ourselves behind as we grow older. Childhood attachments, once cherished, slowly fade as the world tells us to put them away, to step into the seriousness of adulthood. But what happens if we refuse? If we challenge the expectation that certain comforts must be abandoned in favor of maturity? This ongoing art piece seeks to question the invisible rules that govern our relationship with objects, identity, and time itself.

Inspired by the personal connection between childhood attachments and social acceptability, this project explores what it means to carry those attachments into adulthood. It began with a deeply personal reflection:

"Why is it that certain comforts, certain joys, seem to have an expiration date? Not one that we set ourselves, but one imposed upon us by the invisible hand of societal expectation. When I was little, I carried a doll with me everywhere—a plastic companion that absorbed my whispers, bore witness to my daily adventures, and quietly reassured me in uncertain moments. She was my anchor. But somewhere along the way, the world decided for me that I should put her down. That comfort, once perfectly acceptable, was suddenly labeled as childish."

At some point in childhood, we all had an object we clung to—a toy, a stuffed animal, an imaginary friend. These objects represented more than play; they embodied security, companionship, and familiarity. This piece questions what it would mean if such attachments never faded, if society never dictated when we should let them go.

To bring this concept to life, a life-sized doll was created, one designed to be an extension of the artist—a mirror of childhood nostalgia and present identity. Dressed in matching clothes, the doll was taken into the public space, engaging in everyday activities—walking, reading, sitting on benches. This experiment was met with discomfort, confusion, even outright judgment. Many stared, whispering among themselves. Others expressed concern, wondering if the artist was mentally unwell. These reactions reinforced an unspoken truth: some attachments are only acceptable in childhood or in the final stages of life when memory fades and comfort becomes essential once again.

The final iteration of the piece will include audio coming from the doll itself—a haunting layer of interaction in which the monologue is spoken aloud, weaving through reactions recorded in public settings. As more responses are gathered, the piece will evolve, collecting perspectives that question why we are expected to abandon softness, why we are told to relinquish things that once brought us comfort.

This ongoing project invites viewers to reflect on their own experiences with childhood attachments. What have we let go of, and why? Do we abandon objects out of personal growth, or because the world tells us we should? And what might it mean to reclaim them?

As more reactions unfold, the final piece will take shape, challenging perceptions and encouraging a deeper conversation about the way time molds identity, shaping the things we hold onto—and the things we are forced to leave behind.

A huge thank you to Allie Buchanan for photographing the first few interactions, capturing these early moments with care and precision, and to my mom for her unwavering support in bringing this project to life. Their help has been invaluable in shaping the foundation of this ongoing work.