What does your messy bedroom floor look like to a wee dust bunny?

For Rayon it's a monumental change of scenery from when he detaches from his hat and takes his slow tumble from on high down to a messy bedroom floor.

To follow his descent we'll start our change of scale to dust bunny proportions with an interesting view of what it's like to be a little bit little again. (I believe it's a set built to reflect a character's view from film Toy Story.)

But we're not small enough yet.

We have to go smaller than even the mice of Beatrix Potter's house.

Smaller even than The Borrowers

For Rayon the dust bunny an untidy bedroom has geography, geology, architecture and contours we are too big to perceive. For a dust bunny who only feels safe tucked far under a chest of drawers or in the perpetual twilight under the bed, the wide open spaces of the bedroom floor are a carpeted prairie.

But when he falls from his hat, Rayon descends not into the wide open carpeted spaces but into a cityscape.
It's constructed from an untidy morass of playthings, books, pencils, boxes and gadgetry that litters The Andrew's bedroom floor.
In amongst the shadows beneath and between the furniture, amidst the foothills of forgotten socks and abandoned toys, Rayon observes the boy's bedroom with a mixture of fascination and dismay.

To Rayon the dust bunny, the room is a sprawling landscape of obstacles and mysteries. Mountains of textbooks loom like cliffs, their pages fluttering with the occasional gust of air. The boy's bed, a geological scale structure of towering bed legs and a glacier-sized slab of mattress, rumpled sheets and crumpled blankets, resembles a vast, and lofty unexplored plateau capped with a slighty off-white covering of unwashed bed linen.

Navigating through this cluttered terrain is a daunting task for Rayon. Every roll and tumble brings him face to face with cliffs of furniture and perilous piles of laundry. The boy's discarded clothes lie strewn about the floor forming a convoluted landscape of strangely scented fabrics that stretches into the distance.

It's a monumental world for Rayon.
The film Metropolis is fine example of using architectural monumentalism to make you feel a bit like Rayon, small and little bit queasy.

There are a few places we can get our own sense of the world from Rayon's POV.
Cathedrals were built to 'the greater glory of God' and the diminishment of the humble oiks like us who were, and indeed still are, powerfully reminded of our place in the big scheme of things.

An immodest proposal; The proposed Moscow Palace of the Soviets - just in case the serfs forget their place again.

But to get a better idea of how the architecture of bedroom furniture might look to Rayon we have to look under the bed and at the back of the couch.

Which in human terms, probably feels a bit like this...

In order to transport yourself deeper into Rayon's view of the world, compare this view from under the bed to the flood management caverns under Tokyo.

Or if you want to see what it's like at the back of the dresser, take a tour of a salt mine in a hollowed out mountain.

Pretty much every piece of furniture towers above the dust bunnies in much the same way as these monolithic structures do to us little itty bitty humans.
When you're Rayon-sized even the bedroom curtains take on a new overwhelming perspective.

But Rayon's world is not just furniture and fittings, it's unkempt piles of laundry too. Here's Rayon's view of the inside of a crumpled t-shirt.

And if The Wind should conjure up a mischievous gust to carry him off, Rayon might find himself inside a magnificent musical instrument.

Rayon and all the other tribes of dust bunnies of the house inhabit a rich and varied landscape - it's just a matter of perspective.