Our Windows

Our Windows
(2011-2014)

     There’s a fixed window that never opens.

     You and I are placed in a closed space and gaze silently at the closed window. Beyond the window is a world but a wall separates this place and the world out there. We will never meet unless that window is broken.  A distance that keeps us from harm, or a relationship that is safe and lukewarm. Will we just continue to gaze at the closed window?

    

     There’s a fixed window that never opens.

     After seven hours on an intercity bus, I get off at a town by the sea. I check in at a cheap motel and pay for the room up front to an unfriendly manager. I take my camera out as the sun begins to set. I shoot photographs under the light from sunset until dawn. I spend nights watching the closed window. 

    

     There’s a fixed window that never opens.

      I go out for a trip on impulse. An old truck is my feet and I made a small cabin on the bed of the truck. The cabin has no furniture, only a skylight that never opens. I park the truck in the middle of nowhere and stand before the wall in the cabin.  Bathing in the sunlight coming through the closed window of the dark box has become my ritual. I go out for a trip on impulse just to do this ritual. 

 

     Question to the viewers: Please tell me about your closed window if these pictures inspire you.