Projects

introduction

A sort of instinctual unease comes over me whenever the subject of time comes up — whether in an undergraduate philosophy class or on a meditation retreat. I instantly feel a tightening in my gut.

week 1.

Time is my prison. As soon as I awake, I feel the steel gate swing shut on me. I feel its rattle in my bones.

week 2.

The story of time is the story of change and un-change (persistence? Sameness? Is-ness? Being? Existence?)

week 3.

I’m too old to be young. And yet I’m stuck right at the beginning. Nothing ever changes. I never seem to learn.