Wasting Time

Reservoir

In my Geology 101 classes we’ve been learning about ice age floods. There’s still another lesson to do so I don’t have the full details on it yet, but the story of these huge floods from glacial lakes over the Pacific Northwest of the US is incredible.

During the ice age, in Montana, a lake was created by the large continental glacier which had creeped down from Canada. This was called Glacial Lake Missoula. The ice sheet acted like a dam, so any rivers that passed through that area were interrupted and as a result, tonnes of water built up. This happened over the course of around a century, perhaps.

So we have a huge thing of water, and one day, the dam breaks. Something happens with the glacial dam, and the water all comes rushing out. Like crazy. It takes maybe about 48 hours for this lake, which has been filling up for tens of years, to drain.

The water is rushing rushing rushing over the states of Montana and Idaho, sweeping up loads of debris and violently carving out landscapes. Then it hit a part of the land that it couldn’t pass through as quickly — the Wallula Gap. From there, the water came to a sort-of rest again and created Lake Lewis. The water was still moving slowly through the Wallula Gap, but it created this kind of reservoir because it couldn’t all just rush through in one go.

Moving, but not moving. Compared to how fast the water moved before, this new movement through Wallula Gap must have been deathly slow. When I think about this, I think “oh, the water must have been so bored!” Do you think natural phenomena get bored?

In my Googling, I came across “Lake Retention Time” on Wikipedia. The average amount of time a bit of water spends in a lake, before it leaves. Some lakes have a short retention time, like a few months. Other lakes have a retention time of years, some of them a thousand years. Imagine being in one place for a thousand years, if you lived long enough to notice it. Imagine being a part of Glacial Lake Missoula, and then running running running across hundreds of miles in the space of two days, and then just staying put again, while you slowly wait your turn to leave.

It’s kind of like the pandemic, isn’t it? We’re all in this reservoir and we have to wait our turn to be vaccinated, to pass through that Wallula Gap. It feels like we’re not moving, compared to the pace of life we’ve had before, but we are moving. We’re just in this waiting space.

What other times in my life have I felt like a reservoir?

School, is kind of a reservoir. But it was a good one for me… it was a place where I was developing and moving, but not unleashed on the world yet. I was in the reservoir yet I was dreaming, dreaming of the life that I wanted.

The more I think about this, the more that I feel like life is a series of reservoirs, rather than a big ol’ Missoula Flood. There’s the school reservoir, the university reservoir, then I was ill, that was a reservoir but a much harder one to be in, then there was the Canada reservoir… I guess the “floods” were the spaces inbetween, when the water was passing from one location to the other in one big BLOOMP. Some reservoirs drain slowly and some just burst when the dam breaks.

It’s a much better way to look at things if you think of life as a series of reservoirs than one big flood that gets interrupted. The “holding spaces” are where we spend most of our time. These containers. The floods are those moments when you’re like “oh my god” getting on a plane to your new home country, or when you break up with someone and move out the next month. The fast-moving moments where you can’t quite believe it’s happening.

I like the idea of being in a reservoir and dreaming. Just floating in a body of water which is slowly moving under me, and I look up at the sky, and I’m dreaming.

Wasting Time

Fanzines for Geology

How do we make people sympathise with the planet they’re living on? How do we get people engaged and excited about the environment? How do we make Deep Time popular, so the general public thinks about time in a more expansive way? And how can pop music be a tool in all of this?

I make stuff which is easy, breezy, happy and silly. Sometimes I make stuff which is brooding. But I always try to include a sensation of wonder and magic about what I do. Magic is real. And science is a form of magic. Geology is a form of magic! It’s time travel at our fingertips, it’s totemic, it’s storytelling without words. It’s time in physical form.

What if we took fan culture which we normally see around music and apply it to geologic time periods or events? What if we knew the name of the rock succession we lived on? What if we had t-shirts or made fanzines which were about our favourite things which happened in history before humans were even born? What if we wrote songs about that stuff?

All I can think of is these amazing screen-printed Steely Dan pants which went viral the other week. They’re unofficial merch, and they’re kind of garish, but they’re amazing. Imagine a pair of sweatpants with “PRE-CAMBRIAN EXPLOSION” printed on them, or a deep time event even more obscure. Fans love to know the most obscure thing. It’s that whole, “I was listening to them before they were famous!”. I’m thinking about the connection to underground music and the literal Under Ground.

Wasting Time

DYCP Application Thoughts

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I’m planning on applying for Arts Council England’s Developing Your Creative Practice fund. Recommended to me by my mentor, this funding would act as a support for this “Wasted Time” research I’m doing as well as help accelerate it. And it would accelerate me as an artist, as well.

I have struggled to see where I fit in in the world of art. I make pop music. I write poetry. I want to make audio programmes. I love academia and researching. I want to help educate. I want to tackle big ideas. I want to make something rich and mysterious and layered. But I also want to make things which are catchy, easy, joyful. How can I do all of that?

The Tiny Songs Project has helped me re-brand myself as an artist almost. I went from gloomy, self-centred songwriter to happy, weird, music-maker and image creator. It’s also changed the way I dress myself, too. I wear a lot more colour now, or am drawn to it at least (don’t really have the budget for a wardrobe overhaul at the moment). See the above photos for the difference.

The DYCP application requires me to plan out what I would do with the fund, who I would get in touch with, what milestones I would aim to reach and how I would measure my progress. I’m not sure at the moment what any of that would exactly entail, but I have some ideas. Here they are in note form:

MY MAIN QUESTIONS

  • How can we make the idea of "lost time" less negative?

  • How can our planet help our perspective of time?

  • Can pop music & the culture surrounding it be a vehicle for solutions to these questions?

AREAS OF INTEREST

I would like to network with people, organisations and places in these areas

  • the arctic

  • the ocean

  • geology

  • astrophysics

  • indie pop and punk music

  • audio-making (like Transom for example)

  • Norse/Celtic myth and folklore

MEDIUMS TO WORK WITH

  • music — writing an album or an EP

  • podcasting/audio

  • written blog

  • visual diary/sketchbook

  • diagrams or maps

  • performance

  • workshops/teaching

  • animation

ACTIVITIES TO DO

  • geological exploration of a place

  • stay somewhere remote up North

  • collect oral histories around nature and myth of a place

  • create a series of deep time event reconstructions

  • create a podcast from the information I research or an enriched audio piece by including the songs I write

  • pop album pop concert zine for geological events, merch for geological events or areas so we can care about them like we care about our favourite band

Wasting Time

It's Mine

It’s funny doing research about lost time in a period of your life where time sometimes feels well and truly lost. Poof, gone in a cloud as soon as you reach out to touch it.

Yesterday Boris Johnson announced that English lockdown would continue until early March. I knew that was coming but hearing it on the news just gave me this sinking feeling in my heart. More time to kill. How was I going to do it?

It felt especially hard since I’ve been feeling a bit more anxious and easily aggravated recently. Stuff around control and time are top of my mind. For example — I’m living with my parents at the moment, and this morning my Mum came into my room to ask for some help with a work problem. I had literally just woken up but I spent an hour on it with her. We would also have a work meeting in the afternoon. Just as I got up to get dressed, she suggested I walk into town and buy some fish for dinner. My jaw tensed as I realised that I had now just had the bulk of my day planned out for me within a matter of minutes. I felt like I wasn’t in control of my time.

We worked it out and I didn’t go to the fish shop. The annoyance around the exchange is still lingering, just because it’s something I also felt when I was back in London. One of my flatmates would be keen to drink or have dinner with everyone one evening, or someone would invite a friend round that day or not tell me about it until that day, and boom, all of a sudden I’m obliged to socialise and change my plans last minute. I know it’s not terrible, but it’s just… I care so much about my time and being in control of it. Knowing what’s going to happen next. And in these stretches where it might seem to people that I have a whole expanse of time at my hands, using time the way I want to use it becomes even more important.

It’s like asking a busy person to do a job for you. Sometimes its easier when you’re busy to fit other people in. But when your time is like a vast, empty open landscape, and you’re trying to make sense of it and figure out how to build it, if someone just plonks a castle in the middle of your landscape, it’s gonna piss you off. I know I haven’t got anything going on here just yet, but I need to make this mine.

All of this might sound like whining but I think that cataloguing my feelings around time as I pass through this phase of lockdown is very important. Being stuck in the house, only having one friend to socialise in person with, not being able to travel further than 5 miles from my city, being on furlough and trying to feel purposeful at the same time, having very little money, being apart from my boyfriend as our relationship becomes long distance… these are all human things and the feelings I feel around them might actually help me figure out some ideas with lost time. Even my anxieties around creating this project are helpful clues, too.

That’s all for today.