From a narrative perspective, House Baby unfolds within a suspended dimension, where space gradually loses its function as a refuge without ever truly becoming a place of transition. An environment that shifts from shared to opaque—traversable, yet never fully inhabitable—until it takes on the contours of an unstable non-place. The images accompanying the project—falling bodies, ambiguous domestic settings and objects, fluid portraits—contribute to building an imaginary of estrangement and discomfort, in which what appears familiar becomes obscure and distant, calling into question the relationship between space and identity.

House Baby moves through memory, growth, and loss without seeking definitive answers, closely observing the moment when a space ceases to be a home, yet continues to live within those who once inhabited it. An album that does not speak of change fulfilled, but of the time that precedes it—when staying and leaving are equally impossible.