I bite the ocean floor, but never chew, clinging to earth beneath the blue. Though born of iron, I sleep in sand, holding giants with one hand.

I reveal the world when I lose my veil. I reflect you back when I’m dressed. I am meant for seeing, not for leaving. I stand where inside meets out.

I speak with no sound at all, Yet answer every call; I open doors, page by page, To lives from every age.

When bought I am black, when burnt becomes red, and white when cooled. Who am I?

In a circular room, I'm wall art. In a square room, wall to wall to wall to wall art. Now photos also play a part. 'More' or this mode on your camera might be a good place to start.