At night, on the lawn at the top of Box Hill, I initiated a planned Jiu-Jitsu competition. This time, my opponent was invisible. The grass served as the mat, the wind was the referee, and the invisible force was my true adversary. This “invisible” force could represent the afterimage of time, my fears, or unresolved energy buried deep within my memory. My body became an archive, recording every fall, every flip, and every moment of struggle. I grappled between the “visible” and the “invisible,” responding to the unseen challenge with my body’s movements. I attempted to defeat this opponent but was also defeated by it.