I built this installation of a front doorway as a symbol of the neglect and disrespect of the homes in Kansas City, along with a disregard for the people who occupy them. Buried in the ground below this installation lies a house that once stood in this place, but was dismantled into the basement, a life to be forever forgotten. This propped doorway then stood as a grave marker to all of the people and homes that are constantly displaced in Kansas City and all over the country. At the time I was unknowingly living in an apartment that was infested with black mold which eventually filled my body with mold poisoning. This changed the course of my life, caused mental and physical pain and trauma, and forced me to put everything on hold for a few months. I became profoundly aware of the endless amount of abandoned or neglected homes and questioned how this came to be. How many other people are being physically or mentally harmed by the homes they live in, the space they should to be able to trust as safe. I began to question the meaning of property lines, identifying how they become borders in the eyes of the state, owned by a pack of toxic landlords. Safety and comfort are then jeopardized, becoming a façade, an idealized concept, momentarily in the hands of someone else.