A young man writes at a small desk in the lee of a great seated creature, his loose pages scattered over the hillside. The wind comes in gusts. When it does, a great dark hand comes down. He never looks up. Some things are written to be kept, and some are kept by whoever happens to be nearest. From Tethered Garden: sixteen films of one garden that has begun to look back. Tethered Garden, 2026. Single take, 28 seconds, 1920 × 1080, with sound. No. 11 of sixteen.