We live in the age of clock’s dictatorship. Their quiet presence is everywhere. They are of same nature as we should but never manage to be. They are perfect workers, useful and always hard working, always busy, always in hurry, runnig somewhere, never waisting their time. Sleepless. Never waiting for anything. The handy manufactures of time. Their hands are most important for us, we watch them carefully every day. Yet not forever. This evening a little engine, one of milions, has stopped forever, and it’s bustling hands fell apart. It passed ultimately into Timelessness, and I noticed how beautiful it is without hands. It’s perfectly round disc rests finally in serenity, untainted by any noise and hurry. Their lovely tiny dots dance undisturbed in circles, accompanied by elegance of numbers, now meaningless. Ligth sparkles turn on clock’s surface into miniature rainbows, glorifying it’s passing.


4 thoughts on “Timeless

  1. Here on Australian TV, I enjoy watching an American show called Fixer Upper hosted by Chip + Joanna Gaines in Waco, Texas. They renovate homes. He’s the builder, she’s the interior designer/architect. She often likes to place largeish clocks without hands on walls as art decorations; they even have one at their home. I’ve always liked the sense that brings of time no longer being important in ruling our lives, just live at your own pace!
    I love this little drawing, stonka!

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