Blanche Brown

I’ve always struggled with keeping a diary. Something about being confronted with my own consciousness, which already seems so incessantly present, makes me want to turn away. There’s also something here about my fears around time – how I can never get enough of it or make it stretch in the ways I want to. I spent Monday July 29th like I spend most days. And when searching for a container to hold its time I came across annals. 

Annals are a record of events written year by year, typically containing brief statements of facts without interpretation. They were commonly written by monks in Ireland, Wales, and England beginning in the 7th century. See Annals of St. Gall. Annals make no distinction between natural occurrences and human acts. I like how significance is attached to everything and nothing at the same time. So, for my A Year In Philadelphia entry, I decided to create an annal using thirty minute increments for the entries. 

12:00 am I watch Wild Isles with David Attenborough. 

12:30am My phone vibrates. I notice the window unit has collected water droplets along  its vent. 

1:00 am

1:30 am 

2:00 am Dream of surfing. 

2:30 am

3:00 am

3:30 am

4:00 am

4:30 am

5:00 am Urination. 

5:30 am

6:00 am

6:30 am

7:00 am 

7:30 am  The sun, I think, rises. 

8:00 am

8:30 am Phone flashes with a missed call from a friend in North Carolina. 

9:00 am The black out curtains in my bedroom glow with a golden halo

9:30 am I make coffee. The fruit flies rise in a huff from the trash can. 

10:00 am

10:30 am I write emails while watching the 100 Foot Wave. The olympics begin. 

11:00 am  Therapy 

11:30 am Therapy continues for the full 1 hour time slot. 

12:00 pm Commute to North Chinatown for work. Humid weather. Mild traffic. The country music station creeps closer to dystopia.

12:30 pm More emails and coffee.

1:00 pm

1:30 pm I dismount four TV monitors and return them to storage. 

2:00 pm Several artists arrive to deinstall their art. Gravel and bit of fiberglass trail from

the gallery to the freight elevator. 

2:30 pm

3:00 pm Texted my ex about our scheduled walk.

4:00 pm I smoke a cigarette on the warehouse balcony. 

4:30 pm A new friend is maybe made. Numbers are exchanged. Hope, as is said, stirs. 

5:00 pm

5:30 pm Finalize agenda for upcoming meeting. 

6:00 pm Facilitate meeting over zoom. 

6:30 pm

7:00 pm Leave instructions for packing up more artwork.

7:30 pm Commute back to West Philly. The sky is pink and soft. 

8:00 pm I eat a pickle. 

8:30 pm

9:00 pm A friend comes over to my apartment to cowork. We share a beer and discuss dating. 

9:30 pm I submit a grant application for work.

10:00 pm

10:30 pm Smoked four cigarettes on my front stoop. Discussion of love and dating continues. A family of racoons scurries from a nearby bush. One baby touches the bottom step of my stoop.

11:00 pm

11:30 pm I watch Wild Isles with David Attenborough. 

12:00 am

Blanche Brown grew up in the Florida panhandle. She currently lives, works, and collaborates with arts and community-based organizations in Philadelphia. Her docu-poem, Consider the Oyster, won the 2019 Diagram/New Michigan Press chapbook contest, and The Subject Line Reads was released by Cut Bank in fall 2022. @blancheybe