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Hot Chocolate

Self Portraits

Earlier in the year i started a sketchbook doing a self portrait a day. But due to my inherent laziness gaps started to appear with me missing days until i went over a month without drawing. Well im back, starting up the drawing a day (or close to daily) and ill start posting them up here too. So i hope u like Drew, cos theres gonna be a lot of mes.

Time 4, time 2

Time is... a lot of things.

1.	the system of those sequential relations that any event has to any other, as past, present, or future; indefinite and continuous duration regarded as that in which events succeed one another.

2.	duration regarded as belonging to the present life as distinct from the life to come or from eternity; finite duration.

3.	(sometimes initial capital letter) a system or method of measuring or reckoning the passage of time: mean time; apparent time; Greenwich Time.

It is also a lot more things. Time was created by humans, controlled by humans, and can be changed by humans.
I just did a google search for the 'origin of time' and got some interesting results on the front page i will have to get stuck into and read sometime soon. Mysteries of nature and the prigin of time, quatum mechanics and free will, rationally exploring fundamental assumptions of interpretation.
All sounding very exciting to a hungry mind, yet i dare to delve in at this time for fear of losing the thoughts already thought and yet to be laid out.

I said time was created by humans. At some point we decided to start recording days and events, and then later devising terms and values to monitor the shape of journey through time. It is also controlled by us. Yes, maybe we cannot control the movements of the celestial bodies of our solar system in their merry pirouettes around the sun. Day may come followed by night in their eternal loop, unaware of our mortal struggles. But we are the ones who assign values to them, try to force our will upon them to feel at ease, in control. The numbers dont even match up, we need to adjust seconds and days here and there to try and keep it correct, or what we consider to be correct, so that we can remain sane. And there you go, the third point, time can be, and is, changed by humans.

We can step many years, where people lived to different calendars than we use today, adjusted and corrected to match our science and understanding at the time. In years to come we may find the need to change things more as we learn more about the universe we occupy. And theres always the complicated thought of managing all the different times if, or when, we start colonising other planets, and to think working out current timezones is bad enough...

But if we pull in a bit more, come to today. Even now we can change time. if you put your clock back 5 minutes, then essentially you have just travelled back in time. Now you might said, "No! thats not how it works!" But. If everyone were to put back their clocks by 5 minutes, then yes, we would all be transported back in time. The individual does not control time, it is under our collective hands to maintain. Each individual though can experience time differently.

I myself, am prone at times to slip out of time. I think recently, i may have lost a whole month, not something new to me either, as you might see from my previous post, i could well have lost an entire year. It can be very hard for the individual to maintain time, though it was created by us lowly beings, it has grown to mammoth proportions, and requires many minds so that we can stay anchored in time. Alone a person can easily drift out of time, and be swept along like a leaf in the breeze, torn from its fellow leaves on the tree branch, the branch attached to the solid trunk, leading down into roots in the earth itself. So it is with us and time. Together we form the branches of our present growing out into the future air. Behind us the trunk of our past, our history leading back to our roots, our origin, our first recorded thoughts. We need this to be able to remain who we are.

And that is the purpose of time.

The Missing Year