On the visualization, philosophy, and language of time
When we reflect on our emotional relationship with time, we can sense its flow. We distinguish between the past and the future through memories, the traces left behind, and the anticipations we create.
It's funny how it's been over two months since I started writing an article on time.
It all began when I stumbled upon a video conference by Annick Lantenois, a PhD in Art History specializing in graphic design history, who was invited to HEAR University in Strasbourg last February. Her entire conference focused on the visualization of time. Fascinating, if you ask me.
"Il n'y a pas de savoir sans transmission"
"There's no knowledge without transmission" is the title of her PhD research. The question she seeks to answer is: How can time be represented? And, what is time?
What actually is time?
Time is an irreversible flow, says Dr. Lantenois. However, as explained by Professor Carlo Rovelli, the laws of physics don't distinguish between the past and the future. The only thing that does is heat.
If you watch a video of a moving pendulum and then watch it in reverse, you can't tell which version is the original. However, if the video shows the moment when the pendulum begins to slow down, and you watch it in reverse, you can easily tell there's something wrong. The pendulum gradually decreases in speed due to the friction it encounters in the air. This friction is caused by moving molecules, and this moving energy is heat.
"It is not impermanence that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent when they are not." –Thich Nhat Hanh
For me, time is a tool—a very personal one—that helps us shape our reality and brings us closer to who we truly are. Time, once again, implies movement, change, and transformation. According to Buddhism, humans suffer when they cannot accept the impermanence of things. If we think about it, time is what takes everything away from us. And that's okay.
When we reflect on our emotional relationship with time, we can sense its flow. We distinguish between the past and the future through memories, the traces left behind, and our anticipations. It's all within our minds, making it, once again, a very personal experience.
Time is a collection of stories
Stories we experience, stories we tell, stories we listen to. And stories we observe. Time can be visually represented in so many different, wonderful, and exciting ways that I can't help but share a couple of references. I urge you to check them out, explore them, and admire them.
Two of the following works are by Pedro M. Cruz, PhD, and Associate Professor in the Art and Design Department at Northeastern University. The third is a form of abstraction that works as a didactic and pedagogic tool, timely suggested by Giorgia Anile, a PhD student in HCI at UCC, and a dear friend of mine.
Sound on
The language of time
As we’ve seen, we use time to describe our perspective of the world. We say the sun rises and sets, while in reality, it’s the Earth rotating on its axis. The sun merely appears and then disappears from our sight, depending on how the Earth turns.
Language has been shaped, chosen, and created over thousands of years—and continues to evolve—to reflect our human reality (and ego, if you ask me). After all, language has always been structured to mirror cultures’ perceptions of the world. Consider the Australian Aboriginals who have words for 16 cardinal points: their spatial and navigation skills are exceptional.
It fascinates me how time differs depending on our individual experiences of the world, yet at the same time, it is universally understood and accepted. The visualization of time goes a step further, attempting to simplify complex information by relying on shared social constructs and codes. And beautiful colors.
Thanks for reading this far. If you’d like to continue the reflection, share your thoughts or experiences, or leave a comment, please feel free to do so.
I hope your time is flowing at your own pace and that you’re ready to embrace its impermanent, beautiful nature.
Happy letting go,
Simona
