Strange Matter

Perhaps when you enter the home everything is there – furniture, clothes, laptop, piles of paper, coffee cups – but it has all been inverted so the that the floor is the ceiling and the home is upside down. You enter the home through a small doorway called The Title.  At first glance, the home reads like an M.C. Escher-esque installation of words, with stanzas of phrases forming staircases that don’t actually connect. On the second floor of the home there’s a cozy balcony with a couch and Scottish blankets, which appears to be an ideal place to view the home in its entirety. Then you realize that you’ve been tricked. What you imagine you see below the balcony is just a reflection of what’s above.

Maybe you will find the circularity of the home surprising. Since much of the navigation of it is in the belief of progress – that the point left behind when venturing forward is fixed – a feeling of having committed an error when moving through the home is virtually guaranteed by the fact that all sources of natural light have been concealed by angled partitions and that the route through the rooms is almost completely dark. As a visitor, you will only ever know where you are at in the home once you have arrived. Yet for all its strangeness, this dark, inverted home is amazingly stable. Above and behind you a fire is blazing at a distance, and at the end of the tour when a gift is presented you will be ecstatic when given dirt; less so when presented with flowers.