Hanging from the small transport wheels are clusters of keys and keychains, each once belonging to a different lock, a different door, and perhaps a different chapter of someone’s life.
Keys are more than objects used to open doors. They are symbols of access, belonging, responsibility, and trust.
Some once opened the doors of homes we no longer live in. Others may have protected things we no longer own. And some remain with us long after we have forgotten what they were meant to unlock.
Yet we continue to carry them.
Much like the memories, relationships, and experiences we collect throughout our lives.
The wheels above them were once designed to carry physical weight. Now, they appear to carry something less visible: the weight of everything we have lived through.
And here lies the deeper meaning of this composition:
Not every key we carry is meant to open a door again. Some remain simply to remind us of the doors we once passed through.
Because moving forward does not always mean leaving everything behind. Sometimes, it means learning what deserves to travel with us.
