An object is not just that: an object. Singular, finite, self-contained in its own contour, without genesis or development, transparent in its own obviousness and impotence: no, it is not just that. The mediation of materiality, the potentialities of diverse phenomenologies of perception and attention, the encounters between embodied sensation and the object’s own agencies transform every object – from the most mundane to the most fetishized – into a multiplicity. An object is an archive of embedded narratives, a rimerof events, a conglomeration of indices of occurrences, waiting to be seen, remembered, metamorphosed. The object, always already plural in its singularity, opens itself before us, patiently awaiting the renewing work of expression. It calls us, requiring us to exercise practices of sensory attention through which we can find the difference in repetition, the difference in identity.