Chat History
I noticed this new kind of thing and I feel effected by it.
This project is about my thoughts and observations surrounding the chat histories stored on my phone. Through ten illustrations, I explore how these digital conversations affect our emotions, memories, and the way we connect with other people.
The idea began when I realized I might have lost the chat history with someone who had passed away, and I felt a sudden sense of panic. That moment made me aware of how deeply these digital traces have quietly become part of our emotional lives. Through this project, I want to record the feelings that come from revisiting my own conversations, while also inviting viewers to reflect on how chat histories shape our daily communication and relationships.
Our form of records shifted from hard copy to digital, and here comes chat history.
Through chat history, I recognize people I barely know people I have touched briefly. Like finding a hidden gift.
Sometimes I get trapped in a chat history with someone. I read it again and again. Not for the words— for the feeling. Affection. Or resentment.
For people who have left, our chat history becomes a treasure. I don’t open it often. But I need to know it’s there.
Stickers. Emojis. Small tools to soften what we say. “Unread.” “Read.” Waiting becomes visible.
A missing part of a chat history a lost phone, a technical error it can be very upsetting. I feel helpless.
The fear of losing it becomes its own anxiety. Its own grief.
So much useless information stored on my phone. Promotions. Fragments. Taking up space. Hard to erase.
Sometimes I send messages to myself. Or post things privately. Like speaking inside a bubble.
I imagine an AI version of myself. After I die, someone might still talk to it. A little longer.
I think I should reach out. I still care. But starting becomes harder each time.
I look at old conversations and feel unfamiliar with myself. Like watching someone else speak.
For those I haven’t kept up with— have they grown into giant trees?