A face tipped back into green darkness, lit like something recovered from the bottom of a dream.

On a screen inside the screen, a wild animal paces its enclosure of static.

A hand reaches into blue-washed blossom, testing whether the remembered spring will take weight.

A corridor keeps only the legs of its visitor, the rest surrendered to blur.

A young man in a denim shirt looks down past the lens — an early self-portrait taken close to home.

Two young men against a bare wall, caught by the video light in the middle of their waiting.

Inside a red border, a monochrome youth glances aside — a portrait already rehearsing its escape.

A crowded room of young men, one arm raised in instruction: the collective assembling itself on tape.

A forest exhaled in cyan mist, trees receding like the pale staff-lines of an unwritten score.

A television window blown to white, holding one small dark mark like a fly in milk.