Windows

There has been a series forming in my mind for months now. When I get a second to sit down and sketch my pen always seems to trace the lines I picture in my head.

I think about windows, the empty space in between that leaves clarity and shining. It's through the void that light is allowed to flood through and wash everything in yellow light. Except when it's not and all the window does is provide a drafty view to the outside which is sometimes filled with gray clouds.

But what if we were creating our own windows every day through life experience? What if it was through those times of empty voids and loneliness that we finally understood what it means to have the warmth course through us? I think it's during the empty times that we find ourselves feeling that missing part growing larger and larger until finally something else can be felt: light; light never felt in such piercing and pure clarity. It is through our windows that others come to find clarity in their own lives. They see through us, through the filter that our lives have provided and in looking through the glass in our beings, find themselves understanding life with a little more clarity. Yes, the hole hurts, but in creating a window and healing over with a sheet of something fine and clear, our knowledge is deepened and our ability to provide insight for others is intensified. This deepening knowledge and intensified insight vindicates the pain.

And that's how windows are made.