It opens on the water and it ends at the rail. The island, the sign, the green light in the grass; the middle runs full memetic register, and the close belongs to the muse. The first visual, never the last: the island keeps cutting, and the newest takes the head.
Additional pictures hang here, and newer ones take the nails as the island cuts them.
The film and the wall's pictures travel the open feed. These are the island's own postings, kept here so the record stays findable.