Yesterday I found an essay that I called The Watchers. It was a very short, personal piece about my mother and I, and how from her I learned to observe the world through the windows and doorways of our home. Though the woman I knew stayed close to home, and she made clear her worries for me as I ventured further and further from the nest, she eventually encouraged my wanderlust. And, she always encouraged me to tell her stories from my travels.
Today, I find that I am still quite drawn to doors, doorways and windows in my life and travels. They are portals into and between worlds. I did indeed used to tell my mom what I saw through the open windows of my dorm rooms, my hotels rooms at conferences, my apartments, etc. Though my mom is now gone, I find that I still use that “technique” to give people a view of what I see and experience around me, whether it is in writing or through my photography.

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