The Analog Catalog

The Analog Catalog is an experiment in how individual actions, which can often feel too small to matter, can transform when they become part of a collective effort. Read on to see how it came about!

First presented in February 2026 as the central interactive artwork for the Lancaster Fringe Festival fundraiser, the catalog consisted of a cabinet of drawers, and a series of 75 analog tasks. Participants selected an envelope from one of the drawers which contained a simple prompt on a pre-stamped and addressed postcard. After completing the task, they were asked to reflect on how it went, the and mail them back to Modern Art.

Each postcard had been cut from a larger, hand-painted 10’-by-4’-foot banner, so as the cards returned through the mail, they were installed in the storefront window, gradually reconstructing a larger message, and final collective task, through the accumulation of many individual contributions.

By the end of the exhibition, all 75 cards had been claimed. Thirty days after that, 41 postcards were returned in the mail. Instead of treating the missing cards as an incomplete ending, I extended the experiment: I recreated the original banner, cut new postcards from the missing sections, and placed the cabinet with 34 new envelopes outside my storefront studio, inviting passers-by to complete the remaining tasks and return their reflections through my mail slot. The work continued to unfold through everyday encounters, expanding beyond its original commission and into the neighborhood.

The Analog Catalog is ultimately an experiment in participation. Every task is intentionally modest, and accessible to anyone willing to step outside their routine. But each individual action contributes to something larger than just the task. It’s an experiment of what can happen when many people commit to small acts of curiosity, generosity, vulnerability, or attention.

As an experiment, It embraces uncertainty as art. There was no guarantee the postcards would be returned, that the banner would ever be completed, or even that the project would “work” in the end. It finds meaning in the collective process itself, through trusting strangers, embracing incompleteness, and discovering that a shared work, and delightful surprises" can emerge from many small acts. The completed banner is only one outcome; the artwork lives equally in the encounters, conversations, and moments of connection that made its creation possible.

Inside each drawer was an envelope holding a hand-painted, pre-stamped postcard, each bearing a unique invitation: Ask someone to dance. Ask someone older for a piece of life advice. Wear something fancy tomorrow. Introduce yourself to a stranger. Give someone an unexpected compliment. High-five five people in the next five minutes.

Participants selected a card, completed its task within the following thirty days, reflected on the experience by writing on the postcard, and mailed it back to Modern Art. Each postcard had been cut from a larger hand-painted 12-by-4-foot banner, so as the cards returned through the mail, they were installed in the storefront window, gradually reconstructing a larger image and message through the accumulation of many individual contributions.

By the end of the exhibition, all 75 cards had been claimed. Thirty days after that, 41 postcards were returned in the mail. Instead of treating the missing cards as an incomplete ending, I extended the experiment: I recreated the original banner, cut new postcards from the missing sections, and placed the cabinet with 34 new envelopes outside my storefront studio, inviting passers-by to complete the remaining tasks and return their reflections through my mail slot. The work continued to unfold through everyday encounters, expanding beyond its original commission and into the neighborhood.

The Analog Catalog is ultimately an experiment in participation. Every task is intentionally modest, and accessible to anyone willing to step outside their routine. But each individual action contributes to something larger than just the task. It’s an experiment of what can happen when many people commit to small acts of curiosity, generosity, vulnerability, or attention.

As an experiment, It embraces uncertainty as an artistic method. There was no guarantee the postcards would be returned, that the banner would ever be completed, or even that the project would work in the end. Instead, it finds its meaning in the collective process itself: in trusting strangers, embracing incompleteness, and discovering that a shared work can emerge from many small acts of participation. The completed banner is only one outcome; the artwork lives equally in the encounters, conversations, and moments of connection that made its creation possible.

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