Time

Feb 12, 2024

Time serves up our infant respite before smashing into us

As our existence progresses so we patinate it with experience

The past’s desperate resistance, clinging to time through memory’s distance

The shards of time taunt us: nothing can be re-lived

How easy life would be flushing away our past miseries

Heavier and lighter times, each there for us to enshrine

Yes, you can break free of the photograph’s exact moment

Time is a balloon which inevitably deflates. There’s no escape.

One second: a fleeting juncture, summing up as our destructor

Time is ambivalent to plans that we have for it

All London. 2010. Yashica Mat 124g

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I’m reminded of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, with the English Band “The Byrds” singing 🎶 Turn, Turn 🎶(attached below ⬇️)

3 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

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Love these. I wrote about time, narrative and the hairy spiral :) with photo and doodles

I00 Real People : Where words meet images