On the hour that inhabitation infinity came to an end, my time device stopped working. I will not archive it. I will not repair it. I will keep it and wear it around my ankle as a reminder of what I experinced and learned doing the magical time in the home: That time is fluid, and that any time framework is contructed by us. We can alter the meaning of that framework if we want. That time is precious and that we must learn to float in moments of pure free time and cherish those. That the time for caring and loving each other is now. Now. And now.
Related Blogposts
Closing my eyes and drifting off into the dream of myself I considered carefully my potential body, its posture, flesh and gaze. Sister said: Your poetic self is all about expansion, and yes, I agree, but I also feel it is as much about exclusion. Exclusion of the debris that…
Time has passed. Time passes. So does space. So does the material. Phenomena move in and out of spacetimematter. Or spacetimematter move in and out of phenomena. What is a set design in one spacetimematter is lesson plan in another. What is an initial ritual in one spacetimematter is ”Quiet please!”…