One still merges with another and in film terms it's a series of lap dissolves. It laps against the eye. It dissolves and recedes. It's a film in one sense but there's no hint of resolution or prospect of release. Time passes. It washes around the stranded figures but all urgency has gone and with it the tension that film uniquely provides. There's no dry land or high ground or end point from which to look back and make sense of it. To be in the middle of it, to be centred, is all that the sequence has to offer. A series of stills, or frames, manipulated here and there, the figures kept in check and encouraged not to drift towards an end or a definable edge. The viewer is with them for as long as it takes to form an opinion or see a pattern and watch it disperse. Half in, half out. Interested from the waist up or merely dipping a toe in the immensity we know is there. It's a sea of now. An immersive experience up to the point where we have to disengage or we start to notice what's not happening. The sequence relies on an undertow of loops and repeats that are more typical of animation where they’re used to accelerate the action - and purposefully, which we don't find here. There's no surge. No one figure breaks free and tries to dominate proceedings. There's no proceeding as such. The figures are pinned to their moment in the sun until they’re not - all are equal and replaced as a matter of course, but none tip the balance or move things forward, which the artist either resiles against or is resigned to. We don't know what this is only what this concerns.