Time is interesting. Listening to the radio the other day I heard the theory that we experience time speeding past when we are older because we are familiar with what we are doing. Time seems to travel more slowly when we are younger because we are exploring through unfamiliar territory. And therefore the way to slow down time in later life is to try something new - plunge into the unfamiliar. Nice idea.
I like to take time. I like an art or craft magazine for instance to present articles which provoke thought, contemplation beyond what is there on the double page spread. I am not fond of magazines which dazzle superficially with luscious photographs which sell a kind of blink bling. Show but no tell. No time.
I like the way I work because time is taken. Ideas percolate, drawings show different sides even after the first use in one setting - with time and contemplation they sometimes demand many more settings. Ideas persist, but are sometimes incomplete until time brings more ingredients - and it often takes time to realise that they are incomplete. The physical making takes time, stitch by stitch, and now that my hands begin to ache from gradually increasing arthritis, longer is taken. But I love that I can think, I can listen to the radio, I can even watch some television while stitching.
Changes over time can be delightful, especially in observing the plant world - but we also seem to be drawn to a beauty seen in the gradual disintegration of buildings, paintwork, the fabric of our surroundings ... the quaintness of rust. The rusting takes time, but our cameras blink at it, just as we blink at our friends and ourselves with our phones. Next!
This week I received a card from a friend who knows of my passion for the work of Georgia O'Keeffe. This appreciation has lasted over time - from before a time when so many greeting cards of her work were available, and it was wonderful to be brought back to that joy again, to think once more about the quality of that persistent attraction.
We may take time to produce our work, but we makers seem to live in a world of blink, of the fleeting: we decide instantly, subliminal brand recognition rules, and in competitions we are afforded but a glance of time to catch the good opinion of the gatekeepers. Hey ho. Time to take out my glorious big Georgia O'Keeffe books again for some savouring.