8:39 PM, SUMMERTIME, TULIP FIELDS

It felt like someone turned over the hourglass when I wasn’t looking. I understand that time moves fast, and change is always happening. I think we all get that. But time started to feel different to me. And one day I found myself looking down rather than up. 

We count years as a unit of time that’s objective and fixed but in reality, each year moves faster the older we get. The unit itself is the same, but how we move through it feels different because each year is relative and time, therefore, becomes an unrelenting force, finite and indifferent to whatever lever you pull. So that's why we talk about seizing the day, time being precious, cue whatever oversaid phrase scribbled on probably millions of washroom stalls. 

These are digital colour studies taking line and gradient as stand-in for time and change. Quick and instinctual but manual, still line by line. Now you are no longer looking at every unit as the same thing, but instead everything in relationship to everything else. After Josef Albers, who showed that a colour changes depending on what’s beside it. 

And then, a dot. 

As in, pale blue dot. As in, all of us suspended in space and time. As in, a coordinate of an observed moment that instead of looking back upon as something that happened in the past, we are gazing directly at it as a part of everything else around it. As something we are inside of. As something we can’t step outside of, only find ourselves in. Not a reminder that time is precious because you know that. Just a dot that says: you were there, you are here.