Photography, as an art form and a science, was first invented with the intention of capturing moments. A snap, a whir, and maybe a flash, and there you had it – one second of one minute of one hour of one day of one month of one year in time.

It can be easy to think of photography as only that – a means of capturing static instants, a finite increment of time in the perpetual cascade of millennia.

However, the thing I really love about photography is that it’s actually possible to play with the very notion of a moment. Many photographers experiment with adjusting their settings, drawing what could be seen as a dot into an extended line. Water transforms into milky ether and motion draws itself out in the air.

Pulled like taffy by a masterful technician of the photographic arts, time becomes a ribbon that you could almost wrap around your fingers. In the midst of the fog, that same, singular moment still lurks, but for once, we also get to see all the in-betweens.