InHabit

The dark confines of the brick-built vault are inhabited by the ambient sounds of a household cellar, the calm mundanity of which coalesce with the normally inaudible electromagnetic frequencies that silently inundate this domestic ether.

The vault is a stone-tape heterotopia in which a place memory from elsewhere manifests, its obtrusive intimidation awakens the resident revenant, whose determined plea for recognition is finally acknowledged.