We follow a girl, early twenties, up a station platform; her blonde hair plaited, ringed by a garland of flowers. She checks her smartphone screen as she walks ahead, her heavy costume: living embroidery, alive with roses. Next to her, a young man in rounded glasses, the contemporary imagination of a 19th c intellectual.
Through the ruins of cabins and kiosks, and billboards promising justice and redemption, they’ve come to where the pelicans offer their blood; to gather with banners and tapestries, on carpets of flowers; a small girl stares, as each scene’s recorded, inscribed on the cluster of devices of those crowded around.
