My relationship with time would be best described as rushed. Until a handful of years ago I couldn't say anything bad about time, really. It clearly has always been there through good and bad. Time didn't feel to me as though it defined itself with any one thing or another, it simply was, and is. There are plenty of life changing choices and events I have experienced in my 35 years thus far and I haven't cared too much about when I might like them to happen much less when they actually did or didn't happen. And to that end, it's not because I believe in fate or destiny, or that anyone in particular has a plan for me. Time has been a tool to measure how long it takes to do things.

It's taken me over a year to develop the concept for this space. On my desk I have a stack of papers held down with a paperweight. This pile is at least an inch thick, full of documented fits and starts of my inner thoughts since April 2014. I simply couldn't find a way to articulate my frustration, this rushed feeling I've always felt. All I could do was write about what I was feeling rushed with, not why I felt rushed. The answer to why I've always felt rushed only got so far as: I guess it just takes me longer to do things than most people. And unfortunately that explanation made me feel like a child. In general I've seen childlike characteristics as a positive association, as in looking at the world with awe and wonder. But as an adult, having most things take longer for me to do than others, felt like a developmental problem, something I had to apologize for, and compensate with working on projects before others started, and long after they finished. It felt wrong. It felt incorrect. It felt wrong because I couldn't for the life of me understand how I differed from all the normal/fast people. It felt incorrect because I knew the work I did was not inferior in quality, it only lacked in quantity.

Time rarely had a negative association until I started realizing I was always in my head. I felt like a walking head. Since I couldn't get things done fast enough, I thought how I could think things at incredible speed instead. The brainstorms of content in my head would make anyone run for cover. They often made me run for cover. Trying to compensate for my lacking ability to produce or complete tangible results, I would try and make the things in my head real. I wanted my thoughts to measure up to tangible things that I could show people, prove to them I was working, thinking, making things. I was able to keep up with my own head for a short while, a few years. But it was never enough. I just couldn't keep up. I was always behind, and I could never get ahead much less be satisfied with where I was. Which brings me to an odd connecting sentence: I've always had a great relationship with swearing. I do swear like a sailor in quantity, but not his lewd and foul quality. For years it has provided me (and still provides me) with a genuine, invaluable means of communication and expression. When I noticed my sentences were comprised predominantly of swears, gestures and seemingly appropriate verbal sounds, I knew something about me was fundamentally changing. While this sounds hilariously comical to me now as my "turning point", it was indeed mine nonetheless.

Deep Time is a geological term. When I first learned of this term, I stripped the definition down to refer to a period of time a very long time ago. We know this time existed because it fell between two other points of time that have scientifically proven to exist. Millions of years existed between these points and we know this thanks to carbon dating. But no one was there to experience it. I could immediately relate. That is what my inner life is like. Deep Time. If I don't write it down, express, convey, generally communicate what is in my head, how will anyone else know it existed? I can't count on others to remember my experience and communicate it correctly. And besides, is everyone's experience on this planet similar enough to just assume yours was close enough to someone else's who already documented it?

I want to share seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years the way I experience them. Various forms of art will be posted every Wednesday. Photographs and videos are untouched. Paintings and drawings are photographed and untouched because I'm tired of seeing a virtual reality that looks better than the real thing. My words, are and will continue to be honest and forthcoming on topics that are compelling, fascinating and important to me. This site is not connected to social media for a couple reasons. First, I want you to be able to hang out here for awhile and enjoy the experience. Absolutely share with your friends, but maybe just tell them the next time you see them. Second, I think it's a bitch move to only enjoy artwork for less than two minutes because that's all we have the patience for. Social media has a propensity to "go fast" and this is a space to slow down, where you don't have to work at not being distracted. I want to share what is, because there is so much to take in, and a vast amount of time to experience it.