I set the timer on my mobile phone and watch the seconds count down. I can still match the seconds to the memory of the song, but I wonder how long this will last. How much is left, and how much is left to change? 0:04 - beat. 1:27 - a syllable in a word I used to know. 3:13 - time is running out. Time is r u nn i n g ooo u t. .. What will come to fill that space, when time has run out? Will it be you? I propose the only certainty is that it won't be me. That it can't be Me.
I am at home. I'm leaving soon. This project somehow helps me to understand what I'm leaving behind, and the possibility of what I'm coming to.
I'll let you know when I get there.
Richard
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It's that kind of memory that you find yourself immersed in, sitting on friends couch in their empty house. And it's on repeat (or perhaps shuffle, there are so many images). And it's a memory connected to the future, as if tonight there will be some righting of some past wrong. Today, like yesterday - "the day" - is even more immersive in memory. I like to think of you and Jules, eyes closed, on a chair, a couch, the edge of a bed, a stair well, lost for those strange dark few minutes.
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