Moment, In Time:
Aside is cast the gloomy spell of winter that lays a land in a dormant blanket as the winds of spring again breathe life’s will into every living thing. It is a motion on which the flora depend, wild beasts pounce, and man rejoices in. Yet, while the green buds shoot and flowers bloom, and God’s many creatures seek feed and replication, the whole of man’s world expects a great deal of work as ever still, considering his interlinked designs. Thus, other’s interests invariably tug at every individual’s many resolutions. And despite the fact our lives are fleeting, we all too eagerly price the access to excess, though this is a painting of life resulting to and fro this very system. Sidelining the dawning damage that, say, petroleum biproducts, the intentional industrial practise of “built-in obsolescence” or social media will spell for us, how are we to come adequate in this increasingly superficial world?
Now, what I initially sought to divulge about in this volume, was a vintage Zentra watch of mine, and I suppose I briefly will. It’s a 1950s German made, gold plated steel case dress watch with a manual Swiss ETA 1080, 17 Rubis Incabloc (anti-shock) mechanism driving a beautiful dual textured dial. It measures 33x8mm- including the glass and has 18mm lugs holding a black leather wristband. Sure, it has some signs of age: Patina on the glass, body and face, plus some slight deviation (as is common for vintage). But whereas some would fixate on its faults, I find it nevertheless cedes to charm me. I find that a certain substance to its retro elegance in form, and simplicity in utility, very much appeals. I manifestly feel with Bukowski’s reprieve against an all too excessive- whilst wanton world with “watches that give you the date”. Alas, when compared to today’s technology, there is something ever so conjecturally pleasant and therapeutic about the conjunction of such classic delicate character and mechanical design.
For the longest time, however, and due to reasons composite, I did not have a watch from childhood on and well into my twenties. Even as I long contemplated acquiring one, I furthermore failed rewarding myself for Christmas of my baccalaureate year- a consequence of my perfectionist inclinations. But then a dear relationship came to end, and in the process of reckoning out an emotional state, I came across and obtained the aforementioned, brilliant old watch. Be it strange as it may, though I have found anchor ground in the spirit and vestige of an elusive past. It is in fact only one of many betterment changes come like revelations over the years to sequence in my adult consciousness. For instance, no longer is procrastination within my rational, neglect of health and exercise acceptable, nor delay afforded to my temple minds improvement. And yet, it is owing some strange reason related to the visible changes accompanying the equinoxes that get me melancholy pondering whether I am rightly occupied, precisely in comparison to others show of façade.
There emerges, in the end, from gruelling contemplations, a resolve so clear and striking as a clouds silver lining; a reconstitution of this magazines mission statement, if you will muse it, that on the other side of consistent hard work, consequent development, through incremental improvement is an earthbound yields fulfilment like little else. Ludicrous is the illusion of need to over-achieve, senseless are comparisons that water lofty expectations, and unworthy is a heartless aim. I did not know if I could quit on cigarettes, whether training would buoy my physique and psyche or that learning 3 additional languages will condition me better positioned in my preferred future enterprises; but I believe now as I believed when I started. My humble conclusions are then in faith of arising results, and I assure as I attest, that while the good- from within us can be created, what is yours is only found along the way.
Thank you.