What remains when everyone’s gone and the time did not stop? Only the memories remain.
This is a journey about a physical absence. This is a journey about then and now. This is a journey about contemplation.
Several years have passed since the house was inhabited for the last time. Nevertheless, all things remained in the same place. The objects were held in place scrupulously. The order of things has not changed.
In the magnitude of silent, time was suspended … not stopped.
In the meantime, a profound transformation happened.
As time passed, things get older. Predictably the legacies of those memories were deteriorating until they fade completely.
In a straightforward self-reflection suddenly I realize that I am getting older and one day I'll just be a memory too.
Thus, this is a journey about my own awareness of aging and my own consciousness of mortality.