when you were young, did you try to squeeze into the smallest places and hide away? In laundry baskets, between fences and hedges, the back of the wardrobe (unfortunately Narnia was never discovered; oh the lies we were fed!) these spaces between the floorboards resemble a space we cannot access; a limbo in the home. I can see the light feeding the space below; the debris that has fallen, unlikely be recovered; a scary or lonely space I am not sure. The sense of scale is warped. I view from above and peer into, zoom in and scrutinise. I don't know what to make of it. What happens down there when I stop looking. A small world that I briefly can watch from the outside but never enter. Can only see when I stop and stare, commanding attention. Then I get up, turn around and leave, I am in control.
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