.051 Elgin Residence

The house sits in an urban lot like a black monolith in silent repose. From its solemnity a corner is receded, yielding to an approaching concrete path that meanders through, a byway out from the trodden sidewalk. At its terminus is an opening, gesturing the possibility of habitation.

The concrete path enters onto a small landing. There, a glimpse through a series of muted spaces leads onto a larger landing, then steps down onto another one, widening at each descent, taking the eyes and then the feet through moments suspended between geometric horizons, before slipping away, sunken without a trace. 

Somewhere amidst the descent, the black mass withdraws into a diagonal line, and takes flight, leaving behind a sea mist of grey. Plinths rising out of the concrete like cliff rocks, some turning into what may resemble counters or seats, and in between, ashen driftwoods caught in eddies.

Above the diagonal hangs a fragmented sky, a silvery lens broken free from the firmament. In the void that is light, the black emerges from the breaking waves as it rises, out the sea…

To the top of a lighthouse.