when making an animation, we make key frames and then fill them in. there can be any number of frames between two key frames. the important things is that something distinctive happens on those key frames. but without the frames in the middle, the happenings are just broken images.

when doing a long exposure, i’m imagining that i’m keeping the camera’s eyes open for a longer time, so that it can see everything i’m experiencing, remember every detail of it condensed layer upon layer on that photosensitive surface.

these images were taken months apart, in different places. it’s easy to assume that moments happen over continuous periods of time, but it realy isn’t that way sometimes. what i would otherwise call déjà vu, is here one moment stretched out across time and space. moments like these are common. movements that span decades can get condensed into single words when being represented in historical writing.

i’m realizing that sometimes, it’s hard to tell which came first. and that these images could play on endlessly, making memory loops that last forever. reminds me of that theory about how every moment exists at all times.

post einstein we know - the faster you move, the slower time is for you. maybe that’s why everything is so slow when you’re looking out of a train.. landscapes just merge into one another and you hardly realize when things have changed.

george kubler describes instants as being experienced between choice and action. i think instants are remembered as being between choice and action.

if you’re guessing all that he did was to look up at me, that wasn’t all. we spoke about breakfasts and batteries before that.

it’s funny how music, that relies so heavily on rhythm and time, can actually bend our experience of time itself.

sometimes when i’m looking at pictures, i forget that there wasn’t just the the people in the photo, the things and the the place, there was the photographer standing there, probing the potential picture with their lens and asking or not asking people to hold still.

even the photographer hasn’t seen what we see in a photograph, less so with the people being photographed. when i look at a picture of myself, i get to see myself as seen by someone else. it’s amazing how signals that were never before experienced can trigger memories of things that were.

sometimes people freeze for the camera, we hold the pose so we can get a good picture – in a sense we stretch the present so that it can be captured properly.

ishita laughs and prerna looks at me. suddenly, i’m not just looking at them.