How long does it take a grain of sand to sift, shifting dunes as the time ticks by? In the eye of an hourglass, the storm lasts sixty minutes to be precise. Beyond the glass veil, reflections of a distant mirage exist only to those who bear witness to the chaos. Sonny Round at Models 1 is that keeper; the lookout at a weathered door; the watcher by a chipped windowsill. Time is the gate to what lies on the other side. The outside. Distorted, refracted, beautiful.
Photographer Sophie Mayanne captures the romance of an artist’s self-imposed exile. Boredom begets curiosity as heavy dust sheets lifted from antique furniture disturbs forgotten memories. Sonny sits. He waits. He watches the blank walls. Shadows cast from yesterday’s rainclouds' dance with the light to an unknown tempo, up and down the empty spaces. Hours pass as a crack of daylight filters through an open door, coaxing the artist out into the fresh air.
Sinking quicksand in a crystal bowl, time is but a fleeting moment in the present. Stylist Rebecca Seager confronts time head-on and pays tribute to one such bygone era. Monochromatic high necks and thick knits envelop Sonny in 1980s nostalgia, blending comfort and ease with a simultaneous elegance as he occupies this place of self-reflection. Stuck somewhere between longing for the past and gazing into an hourglass wishing away the minutes, the boy finds comfort in the promise that everything is as it should be in this single, perfect moment. Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day.