"Something unreal seeps into the reality of the recollections that are on the borderline between our personal history and an indefinite pre-history, in the exact place where, after us, the childhood home comes to life in us. For before us…it was quite anonymous. It was a place that was lost in the world. Thus, on the threshold of our space, before the era of our own time, we hover between awareness of being and loss of being. And the entire reality of memory becomes spectral."
—Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space
