This ephemeral act of drawing is a moment in time. The photograph captures the trace of plaster marks left on the ground through a journey of repetitive navigation.
Fleeting in its existence, removed from its locale by rain and wind and time.

Circles, large and small are encompassed by the circle of life, appearing out of emptiness and eventually disappearing back into emptiness pointing to one thought, we are not going anywhere. So we have precisely one thing: this moment.