The seemingly unthreatening iron stands alongside one of Lucy’s objects. Lucy has always wondered why her table seems to be sculpted into an assortment of dioramic scenes. She is used to allowing objects to accumulate and yet there is an order in their confusion, she sees patterns and loses hours tracing their contours. These in turn lead to different arrangements and Lucy soon is lost in her own maze. She often disassociates from her surroundings and her colleagues ask her what is on her mind, she just nods and says nothing. How could she explain the maze she saw, one dot leading to the next. Often she gets lost counting the similar colors she sees on a sidewalk, once she loses count she has to begin again till she gets all the colours right.