0.1 — Time in Motion
This series is captured at 1/10th of a second — a shutter speed slow enough to blur a cyclist into a streak of motion, while the forest around them remains perfectly still.
At first glance, it’s just a photographic technique. But the more I experimented with it, the more it turned into a thought experiment:
What if trees could see us the way a slow shutter does?
If a pine that’s stood for 200 years could perceive time differently — would we appear like lightning flashing between the trunks? Would our lives blur past in moments?
If a pine that’s stood for 200 years could perceive time differently — would we appear like lightning flashing between the trunks? Would our lives blur past in moments?
We tend to think of movement as something we feel — the rush of pedalling, the wind, the trail unfolding. But from the perspective of something ancient and rooted, we are the blur. We are the momentary disturbance. Just as a fruit fly lives an entire life between our blinks, a thousand-year-old tree watches civilizations rise and fall in what feels like a single season.
This project explores:
The relativity of time in nature — how speed is never absolute, only perceived.
Human motion as seen from the perspective of stillness.
Cycling not as sport, but as a dialogue between fleeting and eternal.
At 0.1 seconds, the camera becomes a bridge between timelines.
Between muscle and moss. Between heartbeat and century.
Between muscle and moss. Between heartbeat and century.
