Been thinking a lot about time. About how it was just February, and the next thing I know, it's already Memorial Day weekend. The first few months of every year have historically been a blur, but this year it was certainly a blur in a different way.
It's ironic -- we won't forget that we made it through this unprecedented period, but we also won't remember all that much of it.
Our memories are imprinted from emotional jolts instead of the day-to-day. Which explains why we remember much more from our childhood when we experienced so many things for the first time, instead of our adulthood when we're just, you know, productive members of society.
So that's why I've had so much trouble keeping track of the day of the week and what happened even yesterday. Most days have been generally the same, with the very occasional jolts both bad or good -- like hearing of someone's passing or finding out my brother's moving to SF.
Looking forward in time has been equally odd, with no ability to anticipate (or dread) anything. It's like I'm stuck in this in-between place, living in the present, trying to hold on to memories of the past, and unable to see much into the future.
Dance artist and stylist: @marlowevb of @wearemetamorphosis
Edited by @picsart - 1 day ago