The Buddhist verse says, “If the mind is free of attachments, dust will not arise.” Originally referring to the release of internal clinging, the phrase is reinterpreted here—as a form of lingering entanglement deposited in space, shaped by time, history, and the nature we share. Dust remains ever-present. Within the stillness of this old house, it drifts, gathers, and disperses, settling on aged objects, layering the textures of memory and the quiet processes of forgetting. It watches over the daily lives once lived here, and the absences left behind after departure, and this fleeting return—made possible, once again, by a biennale.