The Distance Between Us
The city, from here.
I took these photographs from the same place.
Fourteen floors above the ground, looking out from my home toward a city I could see clearly but could not touch.
I began to notice how little the view stayed the same.
Some mornings the skyline disappeared almost completely. On others, the buildings became silhouettes against a sky that seemed to be on fire. Clouds moved in and swallowed whole neighborhoods. The sun slipped between towers. The moon hovered over rooftops. Light traveled across glass and concrete and, for a few minutes, made a familiar city unfamiliar again.
There was always distance between me and what I was seeing — windows, rooftops, neighborhoods, miles of air. But distance didn’t make the view feel less intimate. Somehow, watching from here made me pay closer attention.
I didn’t have to go anywhere to find these photographs.
I only had to keep looking.
These photographs were made across that space.
The distance between us.
Photographs + words by Linda Virtue
I'n'I