I love doors. I take a lot of pictures of them. There’s always a moment, as I point my phone/camera at someone’s front porch and doorway, when I wonder if look like I’m casing the joint.
I’m not, of course. 🙂
I just love the colors and the places that let the mail in. I love the shapes and the clutter or empty space surrounding this portal to the inside of someone’s home.
I’m not trying to figure out if they’re home or what possessions await on the other side of their threshold. I’m wondering who lives there, what they want and if they’re getting it.
I wonder who do they love and how they forgive those people or themselves for their inevitable stumbles.
I think of other doorways, openings to places I’ve never been but long to go.
I think of doors in my dreams that lead to rooms I didn’t know I had, filled with junk or treasure or vast open space.
What about you? At what doors do you find yourself gazing? What would it take to open it?
Through what doors have you found yourself pushed? What might it take to turn around and walk back out?
Which door can you now close?
Which can you leave open, allowing yourself the freedom to move in and out as you do your own home, venturing into the world to try something new; returning at the end of the day to sort through what you’ve discovered?