Years in a second
Driftwood, stone, sand, latex, steel, ceramics, water
The moments pass, yet they are somehow still present, slowly melting into eternity. A time travel of the mind, a ceremony of obsessive repetition. All one and the same but also different. There is nothing there, or there is, only there is something in the way making it hard to define. The mist obscures, the invisible becomes visible and the visible is forgotten.