In Polish, the word “tamto” joins tam (“then/there”) with to (“this/that/the”). Spoken aloud, it carries a rhythm, like the ticking of a clock or the pulse of a heartbeat. More than a word, tamto evokes longing for times and places that no longer exist, pointing to the elusive nature of memory—something always near yet out of reach.

What began as 90 Days of Summer, a durational practice of making and noticing, has culminated in tam.to.—a living archive shaped by repetition, labour, and embodied ritual. Rooted in the temporal framework of a single season, the exhibition meditates on transience, embodiment, and the quiet accumulations of time. Summer becomes not a static timeframe, but a porous container where memory, longing, stillness, and daily rhythms collide.

Drawing from personal narratives, archival impulses, and sensory memory, the works explore how lived experience becomes sedimented into form. Textiles bear the marks of repetition, photographs catch vanishing light, sculptural elements echo the temporality of the body, and participatory gestures invite others into the archive.

As an artist and mother, I move through time with a heightened awareness of what often passes unnoticed—the unspoken gestures, the unintended spaces, the slow choreography of living. Each work emerges from the tension between presence and disappearance, both documenting and disrupting the perceived ease of summer.

tam.to. is an embodied archive of sweat, sunlight, sound, and silence. It asks: How do we hold time, and how does time hold us? In inviting viewers to consider the shape of their own seasons, it reminds us that memory is not only what is remembered, but what is felt, layered, and left unspoken.