Study (2012) Miranda Field
Clearly K's house overwhelms her. It has suffered decades of neglect. "Neglect" is what we call it when something's left unprotected from the effects of time, and starts to show signs that it won't last, that it's subject to disappearance, decay. It's neglect, that is, if someone who should have didn't raise a hand to resist time's habit of eating away at things. K used to think she and her husband would move into the middle two floors and have a life. But their marriage, since this house became theirs, has become a grey area.
Things break down in time. Sometimes entropy is unconsciously assisted. Sometimes things are intentionally smashed. Windowpanes are replaced with corrugated cardboard. My father had a colleague at the art school where he taught whose own father, when another and another crack would appear in a wall, would drag himself up out of his chair with a sigh, and tack another and another shed snakeskin over the crack. The chill breath of the damp, moldy basement of K's house might have come directly from my own childhood across the Atlantic.
His Grandmother's Furniture (2012) Miranda Field
Now and Then He Makes an Effort
"Knock-Knock," one of my favorite joke goes,