My father is a clockmaker and has a workshop in the room underneath the stair of my childhood home. I remember the sound that gears make when he is testing the clocks, an odd whirl and click followed by the chiming, one strike for each hour. My sense of time is mechanical, a machine as simple as the movement of wheels and levers. In my world the most abstract parts of life are material: time is motion, God is church, and soul is body. The invisible and spiritual parts of life are reflected in the physical apparatus of the world.