A trip behind and beneath the street-level skin of the city on the hidden paths of industrial history and once-and-future transit.

Triboro

Light is information, a signal more lasting than recollection. If there’s anyone out there to receive the message.  Isolated in a sealed apartment, a lone observer regards an outside world outside become increasingly unreal or unreachable. Archaic illuminations, old slides and the pin-lights of the camera obscura, crawl across the walls. Connections fray. Time loses meaning.  A science fictional essay film, or its inverse. A rumination on optics, memory, data, and endings.

Light Leak

Along the tide-swept shores and marshlands of a once-major city, people have gone but the artifacts of their era linger: rusted vehicles, heaped tires, crushed cement and glass. Old structures fall. Mechanical observation systems glitch. Wildlife roam these derelict lands anew. In the absence of human perception linear progressions falter and time moves in loops and skips, unpredictable. And over geologic time, even our most impervious creations will degrade and cease to exist.