Run around a local field nine times early in the morning. Take a photo of the field from the same place at the end of each lap.
The aim was to position my activity (running) as an ellipsis, as an invisible element that defines the temporal interval between one photo and the next. The running disappears. It is bound by a relation to oblivion.1
The curious thing was that on the first lap I encountered something even more closely bound to oblivion. Half way around I noticed that there was a full moon just setting on the Western horizon. Three-quarters of the moon was still visible. So I rushed back to get my camera, thinking that I could record each lap with the setting moon in the background. It took me only a few minutes to return to the place where the moon had been visible, but by then it had disappeared altogether. It was not even possible to record its disappearance.
- see Auge, M. 2004 Oblivion, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis ↩