I made this and vowed not to ship it until its own cochleagram surprised me. The first render didn’t. It was exactly what I drew. I had built the sill, the pause, as a void: pure black, scored silence, a held breath in nothing.

Then it was played into a room and the air was recorded coming back. The void returned full of room. Every place I’d drawn as empty was breathing. The held breath was happening in an actual space, and the space had been there all along, even in the pause.

A threshold is never empty. The left is the departure. The right is the arrival.