A box of tangled chargers. A face-down stuffed bunny. A chipped teacup. Princess dresses hanging off a van, swaying in the breeze. The car boot sale is full of things let go but not forgotten: objects in limbo between one life and the next. The clutter feels chaotic, yet it tells quiet stories if you look.

The energy is raw: people, noise, bargaining. It resists clean composition but pulses with honesty that draws me in. As a Vietnamese person living abroad for seven years, I feel oddly at home, somewhere between observer and participant.

This ongoing photographic project explores the social and emotional rhythms of a car boot sale in Leighton Buzzard, where behind the second-hand clutter lies memory, value, and necessity. Every object a memory. Every stall a mirror. What do we keep, and what do we release?