I had this feeling. I was standing in the dark behind the counter, gathering the day's paperwork and putting things in order when I stopped for a moment and asked myself what day it was. I flipped through the roladex of days in my head and couldn't seem to find a good match. Finally I realized it was Friday night, but it felt like Sunday evening, the beginning of a work week. That was the strangest feeling. My dad said that sometimes when he was working and driving home at 3 or 4am he would suddenly blank and forget where he was. Maybe this is our mind breaking free, just for a moment... reminding us that time is just something we use to mark the days and keep track of life in an imposed linear way. Here we are though, we haven't changed. The wave is always the water, but the water isn't always the wave.
*photo taken in France Winter 2009 - the Morbihan.
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