Carrying Capacity

I’ve been thinking less about the object and more about what it’s built to do.

A crate is meant to carry things. That’s it. It’s supposed to hold weight, move it, stack it, take some damage, and keep going. It’s a functional thing. But everything has a limit. This piece sits somewhere around that idea. Not breaking, not collapsing, just getting close to the point where you start to question how much more it can take. The outside feels worn. Edges aren’t clean. Surfaces feel like they’ve been handled, stressed, pushed a bit too far. It still works, technically. But you can tell it’s been through something.

Inside, there’s a cube that feels completely different. Clean, solid, controlled. That’s where the light is coming from. It’s not on the surface; it’s contained. The outside just filters it. The sandblasted glass softens everything. You don’t see it clearly, but you know it’s there. You have to look a little longer for it to come through.

I keep coming back to the idea of how much something can hold before it starts to show. Not in an obvious way, just small signs that things are adding up. This isn’t about something breaking. It’s about that point right before—when everything is still intact, but you can feel the pressure.