With a division of space that she usually accomplishes by distending one side of a doorframe longer than the other, Prabha brings forward the left plain of the house at front. Two isosceles triangles rise through the middle to cast shadows that the sun cannot explain. No surface is an untextured flat – not even the door that’s blinded by the light at the bottom. The dry rubbish at the front is enveloped in the blueish white of the left field. It’s as if we are seeing the edge of a city through Prabha’s special prism.