I've captured photos of the doors on a particular day, not long after fliers were posted. Those fliers--orange or blue--are on every door in the data-set. (Yes, of course this is a data-set.)

Beyond the fliers, there are plain doors like this one. Four doors in the set are similarly vacant. But there are traces here of taped corners, papers long removed, some even painted over, though fixtures remain. Who did the tearing down?

And how does a door like this one reflect on the set of doors? The plain door is undecorated, but it's not an anomaly. It is unbothered. A sign of?

What failure comes with associating the door with the person? It's a leap, from material to persona, from artifice to human agent. The risk of error lurks in regarding the door as a caricature of the person whose office it closes upon, but when observing one instance of activity, does the ethnographer inevitably assume such risks, no matter the trusted sensory apparatus--image, sound, text?

The blank door is obtuse. If I note it, I am consenting to its potential for meaning, whatever that meaning might be. If I don't note it, I am also consenting to its potential for meaning, in such a case, a lack. Must the ethnographer notice both somethings and nothings? And which are more speculative? What do the things left out say?