the hourglass
the hourglass
You understand it the first time you see it. Nothing reads faster, and nothing reads coarser: one span, one direction, no numbers. Not precise enough to live by.
the tally
Days scratched in fives, where you live them. Each mark a block of lived time, the count readable at a glance. Ancient, ubiquitous, and nameless to me until a stranger opened an issue to hand me the word: tallying.
the analog clock
Precise, and readable across a room, once you have learned it. The learning never quite finishes. The dial is decoded, not seen.
the digital clock
Exact, compact, symbolic. 11:30 tells you everything and shows you nothing: no cue survives into peripheral vision. You must stop and read it.
the gap
The chart was always the argument: one corner is empty. Readable at a glance and precise enough to live by: nothing lives there.
time blocks
Two columns of twelve. Hours in one; five-minute blocks in the other, grouped in quarters so the eye counts groups, not marks. That corner is the pattern's home.
time blocks
