When I come to a place, I see it through three filters: past, present and future. I see time rewind, A building I’m standing in melts away, the pavement un-builds, streets disappear, and I’m standing in a forest through which a dirt trail runs, then the dirt trail fades and there is wilderness and a robust encampment. The encampment is gone, and another of a different kind is there. Then nothing. Coldness, ice, darkness. This gives way to sweltering warmth, humidity, volcanoes, a setting of active tectonics and lush greens, then a sea. This could go on for eons, but I am drawn back to the now that I am standing in. The tile, the cheap contractor’s half-assed effort and use of low grade building material - a temporary facade - it begins to crack, it fades from brilliance quickly. The tiles are removed, more tiles replaced and removed, then a wall crumbles and I am standing in one room, full of people, bustling, then gone, no movement, the roof collapses, the building's walls tumble and I am standing in a world of rubble. Slowly plants overtake the disarticulating structures. Forest turns to swamp, to back barrier wetland to shoreline to near shore then far shore ocean. Benthic creatures settled in and I watch. But those slowly disappear. Time immeasurable.