What really is time in the time of pandemic
I wanted to go out and make photographs. Instead, I turned off my alarm and just lay on my back, looking at the ceiling, as if constant staring could turn it into a big blue vista. I kept thinking about a dubious milestone: 90 days in…whatever you want to label it: self-isolation, lockdown, quarantine.
The irony of our “new now” isn’t lost on me. While our attention is getting fractionalized (even atomized), the past 90 days have been a big, gelatinous blob. I desperately want not to think about how it was winter when I started to isolate, and now the summer is gently knocking on the window of my tiny apartment. It used to be 55 degrees during the day. Today, it is already in the mid-60s before 7 am.
Will the pandemic finally break us free from the traditional idea of time and all its trappings? Whether it
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