Time washes through the landscape, light transforms the colours, shatters water, creates cold and hot spots. Thinking about atmosphere, time ticks across my mind. Change and stillness held face to face in a slow embrace. Taste and smell senses change. No more daisy chains, just dry grasses, emerging from gravel. Birds flit across the planet, like a time lapse film. Here and gone, gone and back again. Generations. How to define time? A single vertical plane of paper, sliding over bumps and humps, a thin slot that holds open but does not exist in more than two dimensions. Behind and in front no longer exists or has never existed. Time flies forward at a walking pace….
Mallaband-Brown 