January 03 2007
Text By Catherine Jamieson
On the sills of these old windows, she laid her treasures.
Dusty glass set in weathered frames, the detritus of the seasons lodged in the crevices, this window's flirtation with Sol will make a kaleidoscope of the things gathered here. None are precious or rare, she could replace them in a moment with others, but for some reason she was compelled to save these things to welcome the sunlight.
Windows like this belong to dreamers; they are found in houses and barns and garages all over the world. They treat sun beams and hail stones with the same glowing indifference. And those favored bits of glass and smooth stones, saved in moments of sentimentality or pragmatism, sit there ... gathering dust and telling stories.
Maine Light, 2
*CA*
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