En haut

When I bought this condo, I kept joking about wanting a little glass box in the sky. There are a lot of critics of this trend to little spaces that are mostly windows, but I find it cosy. I like the way it makes the most of thin winter light, and I like the contrast between warm fabric inside and the big world out there. And I love my view of the lake, even as it’s being eroded.

(I eye this building suspiciously every day, trying to figure out if the current footprint is everything, hoping that it is because my view will be less cannibalized than I feared).

The height and the lake and my little photo project triangulate into a habit, now, of leaving my camera on the shelf near the window, and paying much more attention to what’s happening in the sky than I ever have before. Many days, a photo of the sunset is the cheap option out to make sure I notice and capture something. And it does make me pause, at least briefly.

A couple of weeks ago, I was meeting a friend for dinner, but deliberately chose to be five minutes late to spend a moment in the sunset. Some days, I find incredible contrast.


(9.24 – #268)

Some days, it’s the movement, from sharp ….

to soft and dramatic over about 20 minutes.


(9.30 – #274)

Some days, looking out the window with my camera is just transactional, a late night recognition that I haven’t found a moment of inspiration during the day with any of the image capturing options I have, and flinging myself onto the balcony with, say, my fish eye lens for my iphone 4S, to see what I can catch.


(10.3 – #277)

Not exactly mindful, but at least a moment of attentiveness.


(10.4 – #278)

I look back and I think about what was happening that day that made it so hard to capture any meaningful image, and I realize that I woke up fairly drained, the first day without serious work needs in weeks, Finch working away in my office while I read on the couch a lot longer than I should have, tending only to the urgent emails. Then an afternoon trying to buy him giant man shoes and trousers, encountering completely foreign parts of my world, like the Armani section at Holt, where I saw a buxom woman hug someone and exclaim I got engaged on my holiday want to see the rock!? And got into an interesting conversation with the salesguy, originally from Mali, about the laziness of the Greeks and the wisdom of the bailout.

Life lived, just not visual.

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