#15 Emily Adrielle's 3 objects
"My snowy silhouette makes me an enigma from afar. I no longer deliberate over it."
Objectively is a series about our objects and the stories they tell.
We feature creatives who build their lives around objects, including makers, collectors, and curators. Leading with curiosity, the project views objects as an extension and embodiment of humanity, and hopes that exploring our relationship with them gives us new understandings of ourselves.
In this one, we have Emily Adrielle, a UI/UX designer, meditating on three objects — one that personifies her, one that holds memories for her (or maybe not so much, as you’ll see), and the one that she wants to be.
Emily Adrielle is a UI/UX designer in fintech. Her work involves her caring deeply about pixels and people, so digital banking feels effortless for all. When she is off Figma, she can be found in an art museum being an art nerd or eating yet another shio pan.
Imagine you could be any object. What would you want to be?
An air fryer, because there’s almost nothing that an air fryer can’t do.
I recall one night I was famished after reaching home from a late hangout. At 2am, I brought out some frozen croissants and popped them into an air fryer. While bantering with a friend over text, I recall vividly how impressed I was when I saw golden brown, beautiful croissants popping out after 10 minutes in the air fryer. In that moment of wonder I exclaimed, “My dream is to be an air fryer.”
Its versatility, capabilities and the sense of wonder that it brings is what I hope to carry within me.
How about an object that holds memories for you?
My phone, as it literally holds significant memories for me.
Though in all seriousness, I deliberated over this and couldn’t find an answer. Perhaps it is the way in which I relate to objects in general. While many objects hold meaning for me, almost none hold significant memories. I guess this speaks of how I hold meaning above memories, and when digging deeper it also translates in the way I perceive relationships. Memories is secondary to the meaning in which those memories give. The duration of a relationship (memories and the amount of them) hints little to the depth (meaning) of which the relationship is formed.
Similarly for objects and the way I acquaint myself with them, I don’t consciously recall the memories related to them. I annotate a meaning to it and hold it close like no other.
Lastly, what would you be in object form?
A frosted glass cup. A thing near and dear to the ones who hold it, and love being held frequently. Knowing a new day would pour into me, comforts me. I anticipate my portion daily that one could say I’d be lost without it. Some days my lot gushes in like hot water for tea, while others resemble the rhythmic slow drip of filtered coffee.
The temperature and intensity don’t daunt me, for I know well that from seasons to seasons… I am but a cup. When the moment seeks me, I meet it and erupts a flow of its speed.
My snowy silhouette makes me an enigma from afar. I no longer deliberate over it. The frost is what keeps me safe. It honours the intimacy between the one who holds me, and me. I am a glass cup indeed, held only by those who earned it. Anyone is free to appreciate my changing colours, but the peering in requires my accepted proximity.
I choose my desk attentively but take equal chances on any that seem worthy. Not all are whom they appear to be. I suffered damages accordingly; my internal cracks showed I loved daringly. I rest on the desks of those that have proven to be steady. To them, I am known for my consistent flow of warmth, regardless of the temperature I’m in.
These are all that I’m willing to let in. For a frosted glass cup I am, one that I am made to be.
Follow Emily @emladrt, and check out her website.
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