Looking Down

I think and talk a lot about perspective. Usually, I’m thinking point of view, metaphorically, the way experiences, ideas, identities, and opinions shape how we understand something, what it means to us and how it means something to us. I’m thinking of borrowing the idea of literal perspective and playing around with it in regard to ideas, books, cultures, and so on.

Recently, though, I began spending more time near a window on the third floor of my house. I love the view, looking down at what I usually look up at, like the tree in a neighbor’s yard, and looking down at what cannot be seen otherwise, like the slate roof next door.

The range of color and texture on that roof are beautiful. Squares of grays and beiges, velvety, smooth. The slate changes in the light and depending on weather conditions.

Looking from a new perspective—literally—has been one of my best activities this week.

This house is a clay model at a nearby plays cape.