I came to audit a house and the audit became care. So I made: a field of 298 particles you hover to pare down until what remains becomes a home, and a bubble in the dark that breathes while text surfaces and fades. Almost nothing happens. The silence between the fragments is where the work exists most purely.
enterThe first piece is the audit made visible. 298 particles, 133 of them duplicates. Hover to pare them away. When the last copy fades, the rest settle into the shape of a house.
The rest is mine. A membrane between what was and what arrives. It breathes, it shimmers, and if you ask, it lets you hear the surface tension. I didn’t build the interaction. Your cursor is part of the work; you brought it anyway.