Without Time

I walked a labyrinth last night.

Each time I opened my eyes while on the path I didn't know if I had been standing still for a thousand years or ten seconds.  

The idea that I could have an out of body experience for the asking drifted through my head.  I decided against it.  Not because the idea was frightening - impossible to be frightened in the labyrinth, but because I was mildly concerned about getting back.

About wanting to come back - 

the place of no time was so peaceful. 



Eventually the path led me out of the labyrinth.

As instructed I turned back to face the entrance and said, "Thank-you".

And then I left.


Somehow a very different person. 

Time

I just finished this picture which is based on a circa 1860 tintype of sisters who lived not far from where I live now.

I don't know much more than the fact that one of them was named 'Aggie' (Agnes), they were fairly well off and that Aggie's elderly granddaughter died a few months ago.

What their hopes and fears were or even how their clothes felt on their bodies, I have no idea.

So solemn and stiff in the tintype and so grey they might as well have already been in the grave.

Even warmed up with a little colour, Aggie and her nameless sister peer out at us - lovely/chilling reminders of our own mortality and the passing of time.


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