ABSTRACT
As a kid I loved to watch things go backwards, especially when they really didn’t, like the wagon-wheels on TV westerns whose spokes rotating out of sync with the film’s frames created the illusion of wheels going one way while wagons went the other. I also looked at things that were not moving at all and imagined them re-tracing their steps from nowhere. Studying the Brooklyn Bridge on my subway rides to and from high school, I watched the real bridge fade into the blueprint of a bridge that was there before.
