Thursday, November 11, 2010

Windows


Wherever I am, I like to coax out quiet revelations, luminous and lovely—the play of light, the journeyings of time, things ephemeral and ancient.  I'm especially fascinated by the liminal space of windows, by the ambiguities of outside and in, substance and reflection, glass and what's printed on it or held within it.
 

Joyful things; joie de vivre.
 “The reality of any joy in the world is indescribable; only in joy does creation take place . . .  Joy is a marvelous increasing of what exists, a pure addition out of nothingness. . . .  Joy is a moment, unobligated, timeless from the beginning, not to be held but also not to be truly lost again, since under its impact our being is changed chemically, so to speak, and does not only, as may be the case with happiness, savor and enjoy itself in a new mixture."
     —Rainer Maria Rilke, January 1914


image:  Christie B. Cochrell, Ducks, Sonoma

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