Windows to the city

I’ve been thinking about windows. Since I moved cities, I’ve been thinking about windows. And looking at and through them. Through this looking, I move forward with time, sometimes attempt to hold it still, and at other times, let it take me elsewhere, to a time that has passed or is perhaps waiting for me. Some windows and their views remind me of other windows in other places, including windows that live in books and films, all real because of the feelings they evoke and the meanings they reveal or don’t. I write this piece as live in a new city, with curiosity and hesitation, looking at it through its windows and through the other windows these open up.

There’s something about the street

‘I? I walk alone; The midnight street Spins itself from under my feet; When my eyes shut These dreaming houses all snuff out; Through a whim of mine Over gables the moon's celestial onion Hangs high.’ —‘Soliloquy of the Solipsist’, Sylvia Plath, 1956 ‘I do not know which of us has written this page.’ —Jorge… Continue reading There’s something about the street