Michael White: “Time Spans”

“I remember as a child how certain household objects – tools in the basement, a desktop cigarette lighter, an antique eggbeater – held fascination because I saw their form before I understood their function. They were distinctive, inevitable, seeming like a species of animal or plant. Abandoned or ancient buildings are similarly potent – with their functionality gone, their pure form and character emerge. While nature reclaims them, they enter a new state combining their once-thriving older selves and the oblivion that awaits all things. Their being takes a last stand in the gulf of time, where beauty and sadness ensue.
“For decades, I’ve had recurring, affecting dreams of bridges, usually the New York area ones I’m most acquainted with. Often, I’m on a very high, long bridge with a city visible in the distance, and I realize the bridge is still partly unconstructed. Major bridges from the early 20th century seem to aspire to something far beyond functional, something poetic and profound, though even their function – to span waterways and connect unattached lands – is itself resonant with metaphor.”
– Michael White

Michael White: "Time Spans"