Frame
There is something in looking out of a window into the dark night during a thunderstorm. The muffled rumblings of the thunderclouds as they sail either towards you, slowly getting louder and deeper, or becoming softer, as their energy dissolves into the darkness. The safety of the window pane between you and the outside world. The pattering sound of rain as it hits the glass. The frame acts like a screen, a film, it’s almost cinematic, but the difference with this is that it is so real. Centimetres away from your eyes, your nose, lies the wet dark magnificent chaos of the sky. We are drawn to the act of seeing out of a window because unlike a film, its existence will leave us, and never come about again. The irreversible observation of time, of life passing by, can be felt and experienced when we look through a window. It is not necessary that we capture and take in every part of what is going on, but just that we are experiencing it. We are present. In a way its kind of like acknowledging the temporary feeling of time, of moments, knowing that this is the first and last time you will ever experience this. You could say its one of the most human parts of ourselves, to observe and be present in the passing of time.