Axes from Château de Brécy stretch from the bottom of a terraced hill in Normandy, France.
Not physically true, the long tunnel fools the mind. Firm on the path, I see a copper sculpture suspended on the wall. A grid of metal implies an infinite vanishing point pushing past restrictive, stone cobble. This device extends a short, secondary path with the illusion of spatial depth.
I blur past the object and see pits in the stone and ants crawling along the edges of the metal etched with a dull patina. The whole thing is a transformation trick for the mind to travel beyond its boundaries, but the body remains inextricable with the insects and the imperfections of reality.