Sometimes, I like to be on the outside looking in. Or rather, looking in at them while they are looking out. The window people. Those in doorways or sitting on porches. They’re looking out at the world, the start of a new day, or the end of one. They are contemplating, people watching, working things out, watching in the hope of seeing something worth seeing. They are beginning.
I am them. I stand at a window looking out at the busy streets. I am reminded of where I live, which is strange because how could I forget. I watch, contemplate, smile, wonder, and always see something worth seeing.
When I photograph a stranger at the window, I wonder what they are thinking. I invade their privacy for a brief snap, not to offend, but because they are worth seeing. If they catch me, I smile and hope they smile back. The photo may be blurry, or something else in focus. But I remember that I’m not a photographer, I’m a traveler in the moment, seeing what I see.
Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful,
we must carry it with us or we find it not.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
