"Day after day, I lay on my floor,
passing frozen time with a shutter.
I don't record the day,
or the week
or the month,
it feels utterly inconsequential in 2020."
In the early days of the California COVID-19 State of Emergency Lockdown, I would aimlessly shuffle into my office/studio, sprawl out on the floor, and stare at the window with a mental silence I probably had not had since I was a kid in the '90s. Everything felt so still, like time had stopped. On the bookshelf sat my trusty Fuji Instax Camera, which I would tote with me on trips to create mementos that had made the journey with me. Now it waited, staring at me, staring out the window as we both collected dust. Realizing that neither of us was going anywhere, I grabbed it and began, inconsistently, making a shot a day. I tallied the passing time within the early and late days of the pandemic. It was a way for me to lay proof that time was still moving forward, cataloging the nuanced differences each day still held. The photographs, and the lack thereof, reflected my ever-changing mood. Calm days, restless days, depressed days, optimistic days…the only consistency was that I had very little control over the final image, and I learned to accept that. During this time, I was unaware the battery in the camera was slowly corroding, eventually rendering it inoperable and creating a poetically natural conclusion to this work in 2023.