You've entered this space in the middle of a slow implosion, of things, text, words, elbows, faces, videos, where is the exit . . . There is an Enclosure that a wide-open space contains, including rooms and traps, and internalized mechanisms of control and limitation. Each of us is a nexus of competing areas of memories and desire, imagination and will, and as we walk around and down the street we're really almost anything but free. We think we're thinking our own free thoughts but how much of that is conditioned? Worries about the rent, hopes for tomorrow, are we dressed for the weather and if not how does that feel, don't get hit by a car, etc.
How much of any of it do we remember when back inside? And are we ever really out?