At the still point
Here, I’m trying to suggest time instead of questioning it, or explicitly capture it in a particular form. Giving a subtle hint which points towards its intangibility. This suggestion is embodied through this clock.
The clock moves at the speed of a second, the whole body being attached to a motor moving it anti-clockwise. The tension between clockwise and anti-clock- wise neutralizes both the motions. This creates an illusion of stillness, whereas actually there is double movement. It is like the ouroboros, snake biting its own tale.
The clock carries a double negation and becomes a directly indirect representation of the slipperiness of now. Directly indirect because it is a clock, a very literal and direct representation for time. But it does not behave like a clock, it takes the recognition of the clock object twisting it completely to mean some- thing beyond a clock can tell. It does not define time or point towards some other meaning, it does not point anywhere, but is lost in its own dance, ‘at the still point, there the dance is’ (from the poem Burnt Norton, the first of T.S. Eliot’s epic Four Quartets). The rhythmic tick and the tinnitus sound which the machine generates by default, create a sense of disorientation and tries to seize the slip, like holding water in your hands which will never exhaust.