When I was alive, I believed — as you do — that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I said 'one o'clock' as though I could see it, and 'Monday' as though I could find it on the map; and I let myself be hurried along from minute to minute, day to day, year to year, as though I were actually moving from one place to another. Like everyone else, I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes, weekends and New Year's Days, and I never went outside until I died, because there was no other door.
Now I know that I could have walked through the walls.
You can strike your own time, and start the count anywhere.
When you understand that — then any time at all will be the right time for you.
-The Skull from “The Last Unicorn”, written by Peter S. Beagle
Haley Josephs (b. 1987, Seattle, WA) is a Brooklyn-based painter. When Men are Fairy Tales in Books Written by Rabbits is the artist’s second one person exhibition with Deli Gallery.