And, it's muggy. All I want to consume is cold water and cold strawberries.
SO, maybe you are, too, frequented by large doses of nostalgia or déjà vu.
An unsettling creak in the bones, a space between the ribs that falls into the stomach.
A wish for what was or will be, or could be.
One of the reasons I am so drawn to making art and specifically, documenting and creating evidential objects (photographs, this blog, etc.) is because of my need to grasp these sensory tidbits of longing, adoration and time.
To put them in the world - the things that we let go of all too quickly.
Oh, the temporality!
Not quite fully embodied. Not quite whole.
But, what are we looking for in our search for wholeness?
If only time existed in this straight line of sense and linear progress.
Is this what we had hoped? To negotiate with time? Is this the cause of the unsettled response to the what was, or will be, or could be of nostalgia and déjà vu? Is it due to displaced memories or the willingness to resist the cyclical nature of time?
If only our actions, our defense, our organizing, didn’t in fact, often, lead us back in time, to when new ideas were actually the “new” ideas that folks would be having years later, decades later. Ah, the futility (utility) of working on the same thing in different decades, time zones, lifetimes, communities. Work and/in progress means recycling both work and progress.
Building, deconstructing, re-imagining.
So, please, make today the day when we count rings around a tree stump; hear creaking back porch doors; run through the cold, Lake Michigan water; gaze out the front windows - staring at the sun…even though they told us not to.
Today is the day when we honor those feelings: unsettling or comforting, that wake us up out of the mundane status quo of breathing, brushing, eating, bleeding and counting time.