I am told the cellar is full of water, the door in the floor of the large walk in pantry is best left closed. What do I expect to see? I want to see what water beneath the floor boards looks like. I want to see how many steps are exposed as a measure of the depth, to confirm that water is beneath, to imagine the terror of being thrown in and the door closed. I imagine objects sitting on the floor of the cellar covered in sludge and debris. These objects are intractable, now part of the cellar, part of the water. The underground space filled with water holds many objects that I cannot define in function, perhaps fragments of objects, broken pieces of indeterminate origin. These pieces captivate my attention, they provide no solutions, no attempts to be anything accept discarded fragments. I search for the fragment that will give itself up, a signifier of unlimited possibilities, combinations and uncertainty.