Windows. I am drawn to them. I started to notice this pattern when I was photographing windows two years ago while I was in Stockholm. I was exploring Drottingholm Palace. From inside, the windows glowed. The daylight was warming yet mysterious. When walking around and viewing the past of the inside, the windows felt like portals into the present. The windows asked me to move slowly and be in the moment, reminding myself to be aware of where I was, what I was feeling, and what I was thinking. I could hear the echos of others around me, their steps moving along like mine, their voices quiet, and taking it all in. Each of us examining the uniqueness of the the building and the delicate nature of the past. You can view some of the photos here. 

When I was in Fergus Falls last winter, the windows of the Kirkbride were so compelling. I spent many days just staring at them. I wasn't allowed inside the building, so I had to get to know it from its exterior campus. This time I was exploring the past from the outside.

There are so many windows at the Kirkbride. They are everywhere. From solid glass block to crumbling screen windows, I found myself meditating on what I could see, searching the building through its looking glass qualities. I saw not only my own personal reflection, but how time passes. I stood in the cold snow and said to myself, "everything is vulnerable."