So, you can’t catch it, it would always scape you.

You can’t hold it, it would sink through your fingers.

You cannot force it, see,  t i m e  is as unpredictable as it is predictable, for it is always there but you never know how long it will linger on or how quick it will run this  t i m e,

a piece of it.

A taste of it. 

A portion.

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Maybe it’s about how much you see it, how much you appreciate it, and at the same time, how much you let it be. Let it stay, or go. One of those where being too conscious of it, too controlling, makes it run quicker, disappear, like smoke. 

Who wants to be held within a box?

 

And one of those where not caring enough causes it to spill, unmindfully, recklessly, for no one is really held accountable, no one really pays attention, no one shows up, truly, for no one is present with it.

 

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   when do you forget that

            time is precious

                         and at the same time invisible, tact-less?

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Present.

How far can a moment stretch?

For as long as you give it a reason to be. If there’s void, there’s no passion, there’s disgust or boredom, why would anyone and so, why should  t i m e,  linger on?

 

Possibly a contradiction, possibly an illusion, possibly a reality. But what is reality, if not the experience of each moment? And as such, terribly and magically subjective and changeable. Moments to stop time. A series of works that we intend to create, hopefully, in no  t i m e. Broken down into three experiences that we believe have the power to escape time and to allow whoever experiences them and truly surrenders to them to stay time-less, to simply be.