To wander through a deserted place is to confront a past that is forgotten but not gone, to touch something that is alive and dead at the same time. And, much like the mind might turn itself around a memory until the original meaning becomes blurred, so too might the eye work through the decaying details of a left-behind room—a broken chandelier, a shredded tapestry, a closet filled with cast-off shoes—making up stories and spinning yarns about all the things that might have been.