I have an obsession with window reflections. I’m drawn to them with insatiable curiosity. A looking glass of sorts, the reflections hold so much wonder for me. Light and shadow mix with color and lines. It’s poetry in motion as people wander in and out of the window pane, the sunlight shifts, and the wind blows. For the most part, I find beauty in the way architecture blends with the sky or in the intricate detail of the ordinary. It feels magical to me.
Occasionally though, while reviewing my film scans, I find the most vulnerable version of myself reflected in that window pane. It’s light and shadows… The promise and hope of an open door…wide open and inviting…. The green warmth taking root and growing in the shadows… Pops of color here and there… The empty chair that doesn’t feel lonely, but as comforting as an old friend… There is time and space for stories to be told and shared… It’s quiet, but full of life… Shelves of memories stored. It’s the poem of my soul, I think. And while you can just barely make out my outline in the reflection, it’s as much of a self portrait as anything I’ve ever made. This image was made without much thought as I gazed into this window at the Ford Edison Museum. I was absorbed in the moment…looking through…feeling the sunshine and the wind…lost in thought. And in that moment, I captured my soul in the reflection. Hopeful and gentle.
Do you ever notice reflections? I’d love to see what’s reflected in your lens….