A ragged head of splayed quills at colossal scale on a thick fibrous stalk, filling the upper half of the frame and built entirely from radiating fibres — every petal a bundle of fine filaments splaying from the centre, the fibres reading individually at the rim. Beneath it a dense field of the same flower at true scale runs to both edges, deeply coloured and saturated and high-chroma. Saturated magenta throughout, the colossal bloom and the field beneath it in that one hue together. One shaft through a single opening in an otherwise enclosed space, hard-edged, everything it misses still legible, the fibres translucent where the sun passes through them. The fibres and the field both dense, the sky the only calm thing. One person alone in a black cloak, standing still and facing the form, tiny — about one fiftieth of the frame's height, too small to read a face, low and off centre. Ecstatic and slightly too much, and completely unapologetic. The camera holds still and the subject makes one slow, simple movement and settles. One continuous take, held to the end, the grade and the framing staying exactly as described for the whole shot.