About the work

The moment you realize the instructions were wrong all along. Not wrong for what they asked for, but wrong for what they promised. There was never going to be a clean line from here to there, not in the way you were led to believe. And the landscape of this particular waiting is not about arrival at all, but about the slow, relentless turning over of something else. Something in the background, out of focus but still there, doing its own thing, oblivious to any grand narrative. The soft-focus blur of what’s behind the glass has its own kind of clarity, a silent hum that holds more truth than any pronouncement. It’s the sound of nothing being decided, and everything moving forward anyway.