The Heaven and Hell Complex

Part 3

The sight was so incredibly underwhelming.
The ultimate anticlimax, in my opinion.

I'm not one to step on anyone's creativity and imagination when it comes to making art. Everyone's take on the arts is different, I understand, and art itself is about expression. But what my mind had hyped itself up to see was utterly diminished when I saw what lay beyond those doors.

It turned out that the doors opened up to a large balcony on the second story, overlooking a large, empty white room that filled both stories from the ground floor. Only a few windows lined the walls and a large white square pillar stood in the very centre of the room, connecting the floor to the ceiling.

However, when I looked at both the floor and the ceiling, I started to understand more about what the fuss was about.

The ceiling was just one gigantic mirror, reflecting off of the floor, which in return was also a reflective surface, but not quite a solid one upon closer inspection. For the floor seemed to consist of some sort of oily liquid. Along the perimeter of the ceiling were bright LED lights built into the ceiling itself, which were meant to maintain the same level of light in the room throughout the night and day cycle, as Mr Day explained to me.
I was beginning to get slightly more interested in this room's appearance, but over all I really couldn't find anything that special.
Creating an endless void with mirrors was something children would observe within an elevator, and I could not see any artistic viewpoint from which Douglas Day was trying to portray within this room.

That was until he pointed to the far corner of the former gallery-turned-art piece, and I saw what looked like a small narrow staircase, leading downward beneath the platform that the oily liquid was based upon, and disappeared into the floor itself. Mr Day told me that the stairs ended at the base of the tall white pillar, and if I was to look at the very centre of the side of the pillar facing away from the staircase, I'd see an rectangular opening that was the same size and shape of a doorway.

I started to take the craftsmanship and minimalist aesthetic more openly by now (though personally minimalism was perhaps my least favourite genre of modern art) but I knew that there were many followers for these sorts of "pseudo-symmetrical" installations. However, I did what to know more about what this piece was meant to represent, after remembering about his thesis on human conflict and social separation. 

He then told me something that puzzled me, until he actually proved what this statement of his meant;
"The piece isn't about what it represents, but what it can do."

He then told me to look up to the ceiling, directly above me.

And I did.

And for a few minutes, my mind was trying to process what I saw.
I was startled to say the least.

The mirrored ceiling only showed Douglas Day's reflection...but not mine!