Long before the advent of a 24-hour workweek, before we were looking to multi-task (then to single-task), long before “getting things done” was a thing to get done, we got things done. On summer nights, the fireflies appeared and “dinner’s ready” was a common call. On schooldays, the bell tolled. On television, the screen tuned out for the evening, static signaling the end of day. Signals, then, that signaled time shifting. Ends. Or more optimistic, beginnings.
Today, few markers mark time. We make our own markers, using light as a guide on some days, milestones and deadlines on more frenetic ones. But it’s the rare person who, at 6PM, can walk, head high, out of the studio or office, turning day into night and one thing into another. Marking the fact that it’s time to play.