I’m reading a book about geology (Annals of the Former World by John McPhee). In it McPhee writes about DEEP TIME and how the earth has changed over millennia. But I’m thinking about how time is moving too quickly. It’s eroding my sense of rhythm and progress. As a child the year seemed to move at a glacial pace. Now I’m rushing through thoughts trying to make them fit into the hours that I am able to stay awake. I am jealous of every minute spent away from my studio. It’s April already?
I wonder how long it took for this vine to get wider than the tree it is climbing?
Aging brings transition. I am reassembling the priorities in my life—focusing on depth instead of flash and silence instead of dialog.
This might have been a cheery bathroom tile at some point in its life. Now nature is taking over. With time it will disappear and those little tiles will be artifacts buried in layers of time.
Every year I put a word up on my computer monitor that inspires a long thought, something that lasts longer than a moment, something that can morph over months. I started this about three years ago when I posted It’s Process not Product on my computer. That note is still there. Last year it was Patience. I learned how to say I Can Wait. This year I started with Curiosity because I am still avidly pursuing more detail in my life, more texture, more knowledge. I may add the word Transition to focus on how things need time to change.
What is time to a rock?