Time

Time. It’s About Time.

Time, like almost everything else in life, is a unique and personal experience for all beings, man and beast alike.  Its mythological ancestor, Chronos, (who became Father Time, and is the root of ‘chronology’) is the child of Uranus, or “Sky Father,” and Gaia, “Earth Mother.”

Time’s measurement is also peculiar, for it stretches, twists and turns – speeds up, stops us in our tracks – or drags on relentlessly.

Time, like Love, is beguiling, and foolish.

Every one of us has a private, and intimate relationship with Time.  And, we often determine what is important to us by how much “time” we gift of ourselves, to the  external enterprise, whatever that may be.  Indeed, Time has a much greater value than money, for nothing on earth is more precious,  since without it, what would exist?

Just try standing in line, for a long time… to experience Times’ bold self. A dog’s experience of Time is said to be seven times longer than humans.  One human minute equals seven minutes on Daisy’s clock, pictured here, waiting patiently for her master to deliver a treat.

Time is an unreliable barometer from which there is no common unit of measure, since the theory of “time” is an abstract phenomenon, whose existence by definition thereof, has been argued since the beginning of …Time.

Time is elastic.  One minute can seem so short, and yet another can drag on for what seems and feels, like forever. Time is personal. One minute to one being is not the same for another.  And yet, the nature of Time  has long been debated…. over time, by Aristotle, Plato, Kant – and you and me.

Considered Einstein’s forgotten, unfinished project, Time is, theoretically, a figment of mankind’s imagination.  The best way to define Time, is to define our emotional and physical reaction to the “concept” of…Time.

Having fun is what people do best.  When we’re joyful, Time speeds up, passing swiftly, faster than we would wish.  In this instance, we don’t notice it, until it is gone. When we are not having fun, perhaps doing something we would rather avoid, oh you can bet Time rears its egocentric head and takes up all of our attention…. all our time.

Time is like the Argentine Real, its value is ethereal, sometimes nonexistent, but changing standard minute by minute, (another abstract expression of Time).

Yet in the end, Time waits for no one.

Ultimately, we return from whence we came. Perhaps that is why we call the power that moves us through heaven and earth on the wings of Mercury: Father Time, the  supremely powerful force behind the Grim Reaper.

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About sallyricefotos

CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGY THROUGH VISUAL JOURNALISM
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