The curse of the modern era is that the time of man has expelled the time of the gods. Until the advent of the clock and the calendar, time was a varied set of perceptions, now; it is a unit of measurement. But clock-time hasn’t just tracked time, it has produced a standardised universal time that dissects our days and hours into discrete chunks. Productive, unproductive, work, leisure, chunks that are valued or devalued on the grounds of their tradability.
We are aware that our lives exist outside of this “official” clock. What does it mean to be living in these times today – of fragmented moments and growing desires? Are we running late or catching up? How can we time ‘now’ – a now-that-is-no-longer, a now that is, and the not-yet-now? What happens when time is suddenly unmoored from the anchor of chronology? What happens when time stretches itself into eternity during the agonizing wait for a phone call from an object of desire? What happens when time folds in on itself in the dark belly of a cinema hall where you traverse ages in the span of 120 minutes? What happens when the encounter with an image places you in divergent, convergent and parallel times?