About the work

The world continues to spin, even when you aren’t paying attention to it. This is a comfort to some, a terror to others. Things are always happening, always in motion, whether or not your gaze is fixed on the horizon, or on the singular wheel turning on the pavement, or on the slow, inevitable movement of a shadow across the lawn. There are sounds, too, that ripple outward, that find their way to you, even if you are only listening to the thrum of your own disappointment. They are just sounds, not messages, not warnings, not prayers. They are simply there, like the hum of an appliance, or the distant, repeated phrase of an instrument struggling towards harmony.