My Arms Reach up to Heaven
The Architecture of Time
Mills, Rivers, Trains, and Bridges
Mirrors and Veils
A View of the Village
(Pictures from my Window - (2013 - 2014))
Dedicated to Diane Makarski
I looked out the third floor window at 133 Front Street for the first time the day Liz and I saw the apartment in early fall of 2013. Immediately I knew that, if offered the place, I had to live here. Something in the view of the village from that window hit me hard. Like remembering a vivid but forgotten dream image. Smack. It was the archetype of the small mill village that has enticed and attracted me my whole life. I shot ten pictures right there, before we’d even moved in. They would be the first of literally thousands I would take from that spot over the next ten months. I became obsessed.
November browns and reds gave way to browns and whites and finally to the many whites of winter. Fog sat over the river in the early mornings. Snow fell. Spring and green returned. Clouds came and went and new clouds came. Thunderstorms washed the town clean. The train rolled through, oblivious to the weather or the time of day.
And for ten months, every day I was home, I checked the window, often many times a day, worried I might miss a subtle variation I hadn’t yet seen. The series did not start out as a series. I just didn’t want to miss anything. The mills, the tracks, the bridge, the river and the tower were the anchors, the constants that the whole scene hung on. But the light, the time of day, the weather and the season added the daily dose of unknown magic that made the view endlessly intriguing.