Omer Faruk Akhan

A sentence that never finishes turning. It winds outward from an empty center, ring after ring, at a pace that eases as it goes.

A photo wheel that never stops turning. One by one each rises to the center, fills the screen for a moment, then gives way to the next.

A wall of photographs, waiting in the dark. An unseen camera moves quietly among them, calling each frame into the light for a moment before it slips back into shadow.