View from the Aquarium, 3

Everything looks different when behind the glass of an aquarium. It looks different because your position doesn't change much.

I look at the tables and chairs across the way from me. I'm not at their level, nor am I at standing height, both views being the normal way that I would see them. I'm not sitting at the table, nor am I walking by; I am sitting in my office chair and seeing them persistently from a different perspective. The same is true for the walls (funny how the different tones in the wood look from here), the clutter on the walls (walking by they seem fine, but from a stationary view, the signs and postings look like clutter), and the carpet (if I view the carpet just a tad out of focus, I can find faces in it, sort of like looking at clouds). I'm sure that I would look different to my fish if they could get out the aquarium and change their angles of view by moving around. A constrained position limits vision, but it also provides a new vision when you're accustomed to less limitation.

View from the Aquarium, 2

Where as the fish in my aquarium at home can't limit my view of them, or theirs of me, by any means other than hiding, I can close my blinds if I tire of others looking in. I rarely tire of looking out. From this view, I can see how beautiful beauty can be and how nontraditional it can be; I see expressions ranging from anger to fear to joy to confusion to distraction; I see humility and hubris, confidence and insecurity. Oh, and I see some beauty, or perhaps I already mentioned that.

For every 100 women who walk by, there are 101 who I would like to photograph; for every dozen "characters" that cross my angle of view, there are a baker's dozen I'd like to chat with, if even for only a moment. For every familiar smile offered from acquiantances, or uncertain smile returned to me from strangers, there is a feeling of momentary connectedness.

I don't think my fish have those pleasures.

View from the Aquarium

A few months ago, my office was moved from upstairs to downstairs. I went from a "room with a view" to a "room to be viewed." Whereas I used to look out my window to watch trees, birds and the weather, I now look out onto an atrium where people come and go as they traverse the building for meetings, classes, entry or egress. I watch them, and they can watch me. I'm in an aquarium. This section of the blog represents this new world, this "view from the aquarium."