Running Out of Time

Deep in the dunes of a sun-baked desert, a young soul negotiates a thicket of clocks towards some destination or another, but for what purpose? Is she trying to avoid the end of summer? Running from the prospect of old age in some death-defying sprint? Trying to escape the beginning of an ozone-depleted ultraviolet ecological nightmare spawned by ecological malfeasance? As with all things artistic, we take away—or run away from—that which we bring to them. Either way, time is not on our side in delaying the inevitable.