In the instant she depresses the shutter everything is changed. This sudden opening of the gate in the mechanism allows the photographer to slip through the gap to the space in front of the lens, the space that is seen. In doing so she impresses her governing role onto the scene, coating the subjects with something indefinable form her own presence. Her presence is, after all, hidden in the photograph but dominant in the moment of photographing. The act of photography is a metaphysical relation that differs entirely from the resultant photograph in that the photograph obscures the nature of the actual event.
The man puts the child down and the other runs off. The leaves of the potted plant sway up and down on long, cantilevered stems. They all exit. This end is always about to happen; the illusion of suspended time is wholly misleading.

M. Anthony Penwill, It Has To Be This Way (Matt's Gallery: 2009) pp. 31-32