For seven months I obsessively recorded with my iPhone the view from the window of each airplane I took to travel back and forth London and Venice, the window seat being the only place I could find some peace, overwhelmed as I was by the realisation that I had become a European nomad. I kept crossing the Alps, every trip disclosing memories, new mountain rifts or enclosed valleys or villages. In the time of a veer the same lake would look different and I was reminded that perspective, after all, is only a human invention. The work was exhibited as large prints reproducing on the walls the recorded flights and at the center of the room five concertinas springing out of a black box, which recalls the mysterious black box investigators look for after plane crashes. They consist of the same photographs composed on the walls; each photograph contains within a circle a portion of a photograph taken on the next flight, which contains within a circle a portion of a photograph belonging to the next flight again, and so on, suggesting the perpetual alternation of departure and destination. A diagramatic drawing contains the flights data collected online, together with elements of zen philosophy of space and time and are kept together by a symbolic ‘enso’, a circle that indicates perpetual becoming. The diagram is a sort of instruction manual, both for the audience and to the artist.