Eighteenth of June

Eighteenth of June

I was just thinking how bizarre it is that a year has passed. It’s such a banal measurement. A year. What does a year mean outside of science, geography, space? Why is there is something so personally significant about “this time last year”…? An interest, a fascination, with who we were a year ago today. 

June eighteenth.

Who were you with? What did you wear? Where did you go? How did you think? Were your thoughts the same?

Are you the same?

Hartley was right to call it a foreign country. Our perceptions of the past are never accurate - our perceptions never completely true, however much we might try to believe that they are.

These bay leaves behind me, the cornflowers growing between the patio slabs, they might seem the same as last year and the year before, and the year before - but of course they are not.

They have their genesis in the past, but does that mean they are the same? Does that mean that we're the same?

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“Time is a concept. It helps us to evaluate what we hold dear – memories”


Time has always been so intriguing you think little time has passed but in the grand scheme of things you’ve reached a point where a little used to feel like a long time ago. That’s why I love that you touched on perception of time because no matter where in time you stand everyone views their version of time differently


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