This IS the time

Narratives

 

“This is the time and this is the record of the time”

Laurie Anderson

The time of my life seems to be speeding exponentially as I approach what?

Meanwhile, I contemplate the what.

I blink my eyes and six months have gone where?

If not for this work I could not answer that question, at all.

I wonder if others feel the same?

Is it that time really has changed; that it is true?

Timesickness or this awareness visits me every now and then.

Lines and shapes and colors visit my personal language center in my brain.

I record this through thread.

The mark of my existence, the proof that I lived an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade, is

written in the marks I make; the mark, it marks the moments , it is the sign.

SPACE

Push pull advance retreat

A butterfly ^^ flaps its wings. . .

A line

A shape

Me

You

If we were big enough or small enough we could see infinity

What you do

What I do

When our essences brush

Matters to me

Matters to you.

COLOR

Without light there is

no