The work is treacherous.  Individual cards are a highly controlled corporate form.  En masse they are instead surprisingly slippery, facilitating glances and knowing smiles between visitors.

 

If the collection is unreliable, to what extent can we trust any of their original ‘million’ pieces of purported information, or indeed our memories of that meeting?

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Ostensibly too many cards for one person’s network, the work’s title directs us to consider what, whom and why we choose to forget, both individually and in forging our collective narratives.  

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But these undulating piles struggle to convey the venom in their name.  Trodden, yes, but not burnt. Instead intentionally dark and inscrutable. They will dull like old receipts, aging and fading as memories and jobs evolve.