Most of the video is a study of the nearly symmetric composition. The vanishing point of the two tracks, one with a train on it and the other without, recedes into the center of the frame. It is hard to discern whether it is the beginning or the end of a day. The man who runs through the frame is preceded first by the sound of his rolling luggage and then by his reflection in the metal under the TV on the right. This television, in particular, attracts the eye because it has a glitch that is constantly being compared it to its seemingly flawless counterpart. The contrast between these TV screens and their backdrop inspired me to start shooting this video. First an advertisement for a news station, including a segment from a board meeting, flashes on the screens in colors that match the abandoned utility vehicle in front of them. Next, a commercial of a woman eating a bite of something, triggers a sense of desire and satisfaction. This mix of business and pleasure, still and moving, smooth and interrupted accurately describes the tension in this piece.
All of this is viewed and heard in a constant loop, a repetition that eventually becomes as static as the prints. The handshake in once/again is a departure from the precision work of the photogravure prints. This piece is also the only one that includes people and the man running through it is clearly not the original intent of the video. Thwarted by an inability to keep the camera completely still and an inability to control my surroundings, this video is successful in questioning: What is gained and what is lost in creating expectations of ourselves? Here, the man is late for his train and my video is disrupted.