I know a window with no view, a picture window in a wall that opens up to nowhere. I’ve sat in front of it before and wondered if beyond the glass there’s any place to go. I’ve tried to lift the sash and let the breeze outside come rushing in when the air inside my room is stale and dull and every breath I breathe is labored. But the sill is painted shut, so I just gaze into the pane and make up dreams about what’s outside and then draw them on the glass and scrape them off.

Did you know that glass is liquid, that over years and years it flows and after time if you look closely you can see the subtle ripples in a window as if it were a pond in which a pebble fell just before it froze? Did you know that if you pressed your hand against the glass for centuries and centuries in time you’ll pass it through without the window shattering and in the same amount of time could take back your hand and if you did it slow enough the glass would close around the hole you made?

Funny how such thin and fluid matter seems impassible, how the clarity it claims to have is really just illusion, revealing something outside of me that I will try to reach, but then I only feel the cold and smooth obstruction glazing over what I picture is my view. Perhaps I could break it and find out how perfect the landscape is beyond the glass. But I know that it will cut me very deeply if I do.

#paris #france #saintdenis

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