Broken Time

The watch around my wrist inspired me to create this piece. I am very dependent on my watch, and I feel the hours cracking into one another and cutting into me. I must make it on time, accomplish things, I am growing old. Time passes, time is fading, time is cracking. This piece enlarges time, puts it on your face, and BREAKS it. There are no hours, yet you know exactly what it is. It is a watch. It tells time. But it does not. There are no hands. Where are the numbers? It is broken. And yet it is beautiful. With advancing technology, we go deeper into creating more intricate watches to get all the closer to certainty. We have our circular handles and new miniscule gears, their dials and the dials’ dials, circulate down to the nanosecond. Click, click, click. We hold on to the certainty of time to guide us through the chaos, to be right. But we are fools. There will come a time when the cracks underneath your watch will slice a fissure on the skin, forcing you to accept the imbalance and dive in. That is when you will find form in the crack. And therein lies the beauty. When you tilt your head and see that order itself exists in the crack.