Palimpsest emerged from a fascination with collecting—the way we preserve the past through accumulation. But I quickly found myself caught between the labels of “collector” and “hoarder.” What determines the difference? Is it organization, intention, or the value of the objects in the eyes of others? This ambiguity became the core of my project.

Palimpsest is an archive built on sentimental value rather than market worth. The objects on view were donated by the public and chosen not for their monetary value but for the personal stories they carry. The items are displayed on cork podiums placed randomly throughout the space. This arrangement causes visitors to circulate in an unpredictable way, suggesting the disorder associated with hoarding. Nothing is fixed; the space changes with every season.

The facade is made of scaffolding and stretched canvas—an evolving mural created by the community. As each canvas becomes saturated with marks, it is removed, archived, and replaced with a fresh one. The act of drawing becomes a form of preservation, layered over time. These canvases are exhibited, transforming graffiti-like marks into historical artifacts. Preservation here is not about freezing time but letting it accumulate. Through constant exchange, erasure, and renewal, Palimpsest asks how we decide what to keep. It imagines a world where value is dictated by memory, emotion, and participation—not by institutions and markets.