/time is a curious thing

Time is a strange and contradictory matter in the mind. It would be reasonable to suppose that a routine time or an eventless time would seem interminable. It should be so, but it is not. It is the dull eventless times that have no duration whatever. A time splashed with interest, wounded with tragedy, crevassed with joy—that’s the time that seems long in the memory. And this is right when you think about it. Eventlessness has no posts to drape duration on. From nothing to nothing is no time at all. And at the same time, it passes on, like a flash, especially the time that’s worth living. It’s like sitting in a go-kart. You always think that there are more laps to come, and yet it is over already.

We’ve all heard that time doesn’t stop for anyone. Time is always moving. Doesn’t it make you wonder if time is carrying out a cosmic punishment? After all, it is counting infinity itself! It ceaselessly travels the world, measuring out eternity in inexorable, perpetual, and lonely exile. Yet, to us mere mortals, it feels precious and running away like gold dust slipping between our fingers, and becoming a part of the sand.

It is a curious thing indeed. And even more mysterious are, the pieces that get to keep it, know it, be whole with it, and become a representation of it. This is an appreciation post of the timeless beauty of the timekeeping devices.

Created across Amsterdam, Brussels, and Paris.