JACOB GABRIEL WEINER

A body kneels — in the frenzied port of Marseille, crowds surge past, blind to its presence; on the empty coast of the Camargue, it remains solitary. Stillness is never possessed — it is pressed against the currents of a world that will not pause.

The figure waits — interrupted, overlooked, adrift in motion. Each passing moment magnifies absence, friction, and the quiet insistence of existing, of being present, against the relentless flow around it.