When Yurika Sunada moved from Tokyo to Berlin, she was surprised by the massive change in pace: While Tokyo was agile, her time in Berlin had come to a screeching halt from the confines of a corona-induced quarantine. During the months of March through May she barely went outside. And although time had seemingly congealed into molasses within the studio-bedroom, the world she observed through her windows kept its mundane, but constant speed. This difference in velocity slowly dissolved Sunada's perception of the outside, until it had liquefied completely and turned into something akin to an illusion or dream. Revolving around its own axis, a slightly distorted circular ensemble of steel arches captures the temporal ambivalence Sunada felt while trapped  inside her studio. While the sphere moves slowly as through syrup, the webbed shadow it projects on the walls travels more quickly due to its widened silhouette–delicately illustrating the minds conflicting appreciation of time when perched between a stand-still and the unavoidable forward motion of time.