Glass houses

I see the glass surface, reflecting the sky, trees and birds beyond the garden where this glass house is. The wood and metal frame creates a limit to this imagination, I have reached an edge. The reflections are sealed within a frame. The panes of glass repeat, rectangles as if each one a painting hanging on the academy wall.

Focus changes and inside, pots and leaves and stems. Greens and browns with the occasional hit if colour of a fruit or flower acting as an anchor point in an otherwise abstracted scene. Looking right-through you see the frames and glass of the other side, the limits of one boundary, separating internal and external. A wall, a tangible border between in and out. To my eyes I see it all. I see beyond. Through and reflected back and at the surface, all at once. Through, reflected, at, through, reflected, at. Outside, inside, the surface itself.

It is a house, a familiar shape of comfort, safety and dwelling. The threshold is thin here, I step inside yet still visible. Growing is safe here, this is a nurturing space. Plants transplanted from other lands far away, carried in a smaller version of this structure known as a Wardien cases can grow in this house away from the extremes of outside. This glass home.  Letting in the light, glass is the threshold that light can pass across, it’s warmth captured. At night the glow of light comes from within and the frame becomes a lantern. The glow visible from all around the garden. Inside the darkness is a veil over the beyond and I am reflected back inside my lantern.