You Can Use The “Novelty Effect” To Slow Down Time
Cafe Mutsi, Andes, NY
On Sundays, I tend to find myself staring at my calendar with that familiar sinking feeling. Another weekend gone in a flash. Another week vanished without me realizing. Another month somehow evaporated. Where is all this time going?
I've noticed this acceleration as I've gotten older, the strange compression of days and weeks until entire seasons seem to slip through my fingers before I've properly acknowledged them. Time wasn't always this way. Remember summers as a child? They stretched out endlessly, each day an expansive territory to explore.
The difference, I've realized, isn't actually about time itself but about novelty. As children, nearly everything we encounter is new. Our brains work overtime processing fresh experiences, creating detailed memories. And this process of deep attention and engagement makes time feel slower and more substantial.
Amelie Maison d’Art, NYC
Galerie Perrotin, NYC
This insight hit me during a recent trip to Upstate New York. Instead of my usual highway drive, I meandered through backroads I'd never traveled. I noticed how that forty-minute detour felt longer, more agreeable, and meaningful than my typical route. I stopped to examine intricate snowflakes on my mittens, had an impromptu visit to a quaint bakery and coffee shop near Boiceville, NY. I found myself mesmerized by the quality of light through the Esopus Creek, where the winter sun filtered through bare branches creating patterns I couldn't properly capture with my camera. The tiny town of Delhi, NY with its row of independent bookshops and artisan storefronts became an unexpected highlight rather than just another blur through my windshield.
So I started experimenting with intentional novelty in small ways. I now randomly enter stores and art galleries I'd normally walk past. I've started taking "artist dates" with myself – a concept I borrowed from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way. I registered for classes on various creative disciplines that I can focus on a couple weeknights per week. I now accept unexpected invitations from friends to join some events I wouldn’t normally go to as an introvert.
Galerie Templon, NYC
The results have been subtle but significant: my days feel fuller, my weeks less identical to one another, and I have this sense of growth and progression. Time still moves forward, but now it leaves more traces, more texture, more evidence of its passing.
I'm not suggesting we need constant stimulation or dramatic life changes. Instead, I believe that small creative disruptions to our routine can help us feel more interesting and interested, more engaged, know ourselves better, and fill our cup to have more to give to others. Because time doesn't speed up as we age – we just stop noticing it as carefully. And perhaps paying attention through creativity is our most effective way of slowing it down.