Is it possible to give a definition of life? Can it be contained in a seed and carried away by the wind like a bird in flight? A mother giving birth or perhaps a touch of light, the warm sunlight on your cheek? Or is it that never ending commute, a distant drone of traffic helicopters in the sky and muted shouts of neighborhood kids? They all serve as reminders of life as a sensory experience. Life as it is lived on a daily basis.
Then there is the intangible stuff, everything that fades the moment the fat lady stops singing and curtain drops. The vast collection of memories, half-forgotten school book facts, mental and handed down family recipes. The ebb and flow of remembering and letting go. But what to do until that final moment arrives? It could be tomorrow or still decades from now. Like a cat casting its silent shadow or a disturbing dream that lingers in the morning; a sudden movement caught in the corner of your eye. Maybe that is life…
Image: German woodcut, representing youth, maturation, aging, and death in ten steps, 1482
© The Trustees of the British Museum