Empty Space Echo

Our bathroom currently looks like the equivalent of a gridline model of a Sims house, devoid of all its surfaces: wooden rails against a black background that could be positioned in a virtual blackness. Without the furniture it held only a recent clockface ago, without a floor, it surfaces how empty a space can be. Often there is an echo that can travel throughout the room - unlike the computer model whose blackness does not allow vibrations to bounce. The bathroom is still a room, except for the moment it is just that, a room - there is no bath in it. Of course, we continue to call it a bathroom in anticipation of what it will be in two or three weeks time.

It got me thinking about bones inside bodies, structures inside buildings, structures inside political systems and ideologies. Stripped, when I can see all those bare things that hold together an illusion, I notice its simple echoic emptiness upon which impressions are built; just like bathrooms.