I love windows. When I travel I take pictures of them constantly, and have diligently recorded the view from the window of every place I have stayed. I have pictures of the stained glass bathroom window in Cannon Beach, Oregon, and pictures of myself waving from the Grand Cadenabbia Hotel window in Lake Como, Italy. Dozens of windows in Venice, tiny towns in Switzerland… so many pictures of windows. What drives the fascination?
Windows are for looking out, but also for looking in. They are the threshold of introspection and interaction; a frame for an extrovert, a veil for an introvert. They can look forward to where you may go, and backward to where you may come from. On the verge of vision – a resting place to look, to think, to pause and consider. Transparent or tinted – the concept is constant.
Fenêtre, finestra… in many languages the word for window relates directly to he word for opportunity.
“I discovered windows one afternoon and after that, nothing was ever the same.”
(Anne Spollen, The Shape of Water)
When I look at these pictures – hanging in my home and above my desk at work – I remember the places in Europe I long to go back to. A different time, a different way of thinking, an opportunity for a different life… A window into a world that is only developed in my dreams.
Opportunity. Possibility. Introspection, contemplation. Point of view.
And it all begins with a window.
These are the windows I looked into before and out of during the most meaningful moments of my life: first my wedding and then the baptisms of both my children…
Speaking of “opportunity”…
For insight, for inspiration, for pure possibility – not past or future but balanced on the cusp – suspended in the moment but anchored in clarity- I love windows.