Inconvenience. On purpose

Recently, I have been practicing inconveniencing myself. Choosing to wait, even when I do not have to.

The moment it clicked happened while I was driving. A song I did not particularly enjoy came on, and without thinking, I reached to skip it. Again. And again. Until I realized my phone was not connected. It was the radio. There was no next.

It made me aware of how carefully convenience has been woven into our lives. How little mental energy we now spend on things that once required planning, patience, and presence. Driving. Choosing. Executing. Even listening has become instantaneous.

This constant ease creates a quiet impatience. Information arrives in seconds. Music, conversations, answers, all delivered on demand. Waiting feels unnecessary, almost foreign.

This piece is my response to that feeling. A ritual built around observation, time, and restraint.

Wax melts slowly until the block disappears. Marbles press against one another, each trying to escape first. Some days the process lasts an hour. Other days, three. The length does not matter. What matters is that I remain. I sit. I watch. No phone. No interruptions.

When everything is gone, it is born again. Melted, reshaped, prepared to begin once more the following day.