The Joy Of Time And Now

Through music and clay, a pianist-composer and potter live in the moment, at ease, one day at a time

- Andrea Sim

In a different time and by now, winter vacations would have been ripe for reprieve. Yearly appraisals checked off, those who possess Beth Harmon-esque steel one step closer to checkmate in the chess of life. But there’s no final crescendo this year, 2020’s triumphs reduced to mostly pixels on a screen and figments of a pop culture haze induced by The Queen’s Gambit and Emily In Paris. Did Lemony Snicket pen the year’s storyline? I don’t recall signing up for this simulation of Final Destination 6. The global pandemic and the socioeconomic crater it has left in its wake can’t help but feel like Valerie Lewton’s demise; an exploding computer, glass to the neck, and knife to the chest. Murphy’s Law, in beast mode.

As a Christmas without much holiday cheer draws near, I take stock of the year and mull over the future. 2020 isn’t the sole culprit for the shrinking business of fashion publishing, but it’s shattered our rose-tinted glasses, allowing many to see it for what it is: A slowly sinking ship. Some have since disembarked for safer shores, but I’ve chosen to perceive the year as an axis, not the closing credits. To see that time will be a friend, not a foe, and to live for today — instead of what tomorrow might bring. It’s a choice that is mildly uncomfortable. Like the onset of a toothache, one that is yet to bloom into a dull, twinging ache.