Windows (Again)

Confession: my cousin and I once sneaked downhill to peer into the windows of a neighbor's house to see what we could see. I had not read Harriet, the Spy, and he most certainly had not. But I had read Nancy Drew mysteries, so I fancied myself a detective of domestic life -- others' domestic life. The two of us wrote (maybe even only once) a neighborhood newspaper, featuring what we imagined might have happened in our grandparents' former house.

For me now, windows shine most without people like these stained glass panes in a chapel door, sunlight splashing their colors on a dark wall.

I don't need a story -- fictional or factual. The windows are enough.

Learning from People I Don't Know

I posted several pictures to 500px yesterday, including a heavily shadowed photo of the art studio building. Almost immediately, a photographer whose work I've admired wrote, "Very nice minimal shot, love the hard shadows." Encouraged by his compliments and inspired by similar photos, I set out today intentionally looking for hard shadows. I found plenty.

When I chat with students about university compositions, I try to distinguish between reports and essays. I think I'm finally leaving "reports" behind, and I like it.

(Until odonate season.)

Light and Shadow

The double pleasures of a clear blue sky and winter sun.

Here Comes the Sun!

Sun sun sun, here it comes!

 And here's what it does.

Good day, sunshine! I feel good in a special way. I'm in love with a sunny day!

Going Up

Last time, J accompanied me for a routine medical test; this time, she had been admitted three weeks earlier. As before, I noticed people (the nice young man who wrote down the complicated directions to J's room, the helpful nurse outside it, the strong young woman moving what appeared to be a surgical bed and who told me she's "halfway through the second week" on the job, one which she enjoys); sour and sweet smells of floor polish and cafeteria food, coffee and sickness, fear and sorrow; overheard laughter and quietly explained medical information; shadows and reflections cast by sunlight and corridor light on the hall mirrors where I was to turn right for corridor D and go up to 9 and on the hallway stone at that elevator.

Only when I came back down and walked out to Parking Level 2 did I realize the city opened up on two sides of the garage, blooming just beyond my car like a promise of renewal. 

No guarantee, of course, but I'll take it.

Dawning

Merry Christmas!

Being helpful

isn't always helpful.

Accidental Capture

I didn't mean to, but I photographed one of my favorite thingswhen I tried to snap BigAssCat.

I didn't see them until I downloaded the picture, and then WHAM!

Like the first time I saw them, I was gobsmacked.

I am gobsmacked every time the light is just right and the air is just still.

Dust motes.

A reminder of the plentifulness of the world's stuff, taking me back to childhood when, lying on my bed, I saw for the first time that air was not empty but full -- with tiny bits of fluff and me and everything else I see, all aswirl all the time, all composed of specks of matter and energy -- and sometimes, I see them and feel cosmic connectedness, even if only for a moment.

Sometimes What December Brings Is

darkness

and

light

and 

at

times

more

of 

one

than

the

other

Let There Be Light

The sign said STOP

so I did, and took in the view. 

Confession of a Difficult Lunch Date

My friend needs to sit out of the sun, so she chose our table and seats at Shenanigans. 

That's when I became a difficult lunch date.

While she explained a dilemma concerning a book project, I listened carefully and understood the issues. I even asked questions when I was confused.

But.

I couldn't help staring past her gesturing left hand, where the dairy cases lit up like Christmas. 

My lunch was delicious, my companion patient, the light beautiful.

I may have to go back tomorrow.

To try again.

The Magic Hour

I was on my way to visit an elderly friend.

I never made it.

This is why.

Magic Show

I need no calendar, no outdoor walk, no newspaper reminder that daylight savings is sliding to its end for another year (a year of drought descending quickly into earlier darkness and then even longer darkness) because chapel architecture tells the story better than any scientific journal or weatherman's prediction or farmer's almanac, the story told in light and shadow, demarcating glass, wall, wood, metal, and cloth into the geometry of time and space.

Fall Color ABCedarian: N

NICKEL

What Startles

Settled comfortably in the study, we chose a Netflix children's film, turned off the lights, and started watching our British movie. A time-travel narrative during World War II on a beautiful estate with mysterious atmosphere.

One of them, on seeing the slow appearance of a ghost child in a movie, let out the longest-loudest-mostpiercing scream I had ever witnessed and the other covered her face leaving only the widest-open eyes I've ever seen visible.

Why was that scary? I asked when I could collect myself.

Ghost girls always frighten me, the 11-year-old answered.

Do you believe in ghosts?

I believe in reincarnation, he replied.

I don't, the 9-year-old said, and I wasn't scared.

Then why did you cover your face and unpeel your eyes so they looked like saucers? I asked.

Because his scream scared me, she said.

It gave me a headache, I said.

However, 15 minutes later, I started laughing so hard that my diaphragm constricted, and it really hurt, and I couldn't stop, and they started laughing too, and then we all laughed. Finally, we talked about Munch's scream, and all of us imitated it, and we kept laughing and laughing and laughing.

A little later, he and I walked into the kitchen.

When I saw this in the window above the sink, I started. He exclaimed, Wow! What is that? I didn't know, till I turned around and saw that I had left the light on in the little washing machine pantry. The window reflected the light leak. You should blog about that! he added.

And so I have.

Before My Eyes Were Dilated

I saw this.

Sometimes I am really really lucky.

Not the First, Not the Last Post to Mention Edward Hopper

For previous mentions, see Hopper Leitmotif, Noon in the Village, and Storm Chasing (there are others).

But today, there's this, and it's remarkable.



I will have trouble waiting, for more.

What Shadows Do

hide Ebony Jewelwings

accent Kousa dogwood

make bridges mysterious

play on running water

announce leafy canopy

Surreality

I
Current election cycle.

II
Universe: 13.8 billion years. Odonates: 300 million years. Homo sapiens: 200,000 years.

III
Rainy day tricks of light.