I started a new sketchbook late last night in my kitchen as I was having tea. I was gazing around looking for a still life, only armed with a pen from the dollar store. I saw the window, cliche for me, but I tried hard to push my thoughts since there really is something poetic about windows. Whenever I hit a road block I use my past as food for thought, I think about my childhood. I think about how I grew up different from others. I think I looked out more windows.
I was always reflecting while looking, it was never just staring just to stare or admire space. I loved to overthink to the point where I forgot where I was. I enjoyed it. The thing about windows, (I realized last night) is that you see the outside while also reflecting the inside physically-reflections of images on the glass. A window is not just a one way perspective to which you can see outside. It requires an inside, a past, a history to orient itself in the divide.
Otherwise, it would just be a wall with a hole.. The reciprocity of an open window- inviting the outside in as you breathe it right back. And yet- you always have the ability for a boundary. You can hide if you want to, but still remain visible and peer out. A closed windows seems more private, but you safely see everything, yourself and everything that is challenging it as well as inviting it.
Below are photos of my sketch book. photoshop mock ups of my concept, and a pinterest photo for inspiration.
