There’s a room. There is only one door, but there is a series of three windows. The panes of glass sandwich wires, plus the exterior metal bars fixed around the windows add to the aesthetic and protective emphasis.
The pattern on the floor is just a pattern; however, it presents an illusion of uncertainty. Square boxes pop up from the ground — the surface of pillars. This potential —
Oh, it’s just a figment of imagination. Get over it.
— hop-across obstacle feels and comes across like a sea of trouble between a standing point and the ornate, white fireplace. There isn’t much depth to the fireplace despite it’s being embedded in the walls. There probably isn’t a flue or chimney; but this is an assumption and something easily found out when the opportunity presents itself. Said opportunity to look up into said fireplace will present itself when action is taken.
The above picture has convinced me it’s one of my favorite pictures taken in a recent trip to New York City. It’s basic, but there are a lot of details to this one particular angle. A lot of information about this apartment building is hidden. In the actual sense, there are a couple pillars and the condition of the apartment doors add more aesthetic insight.
At the same time the photograph above entices imagination. It can coax our minds to figure out how to escape the room or dive deeper into it.
I prefer black and white photography. (But you, reader, should know this.) I love the classic appeal, plus it cuts down on time
wasted spent deciding on what filter to use. Instead, time editing is focused on contrast, brightness, clarity and by adding a smidgen of sharpness. Using black-and-white, just like alluding to the process of explanation, cuts to the chase. It’s bare bones.
It’s not to say the vibrant shades captured by the camera aren’t valued. They are. See? (Look to the right.) It’s still an interesting capture. Keeping the color does enhance the photo, but it prevents truly using that imagination potential we all have.
Seeing the photograph in various shades of gray or various shades of black — and be sure to circle whichever you prefer, because our scientists are keeping a tally for anthropological studies — coaxed my brain into snapping its fingers:
The view is reminiscent, a child of M.C. Escher and Chris Van Allsburg. It’s definitely not one of the obvious infinite aspects found in Escher’s work, but it’s along the lines of the strategically placed aspect of the background, foreground or mid-ground adding to his designs. As for Allsburg — this is no Jumanji or The Polar Express; however, it does blatantly remind me of the drawings found within The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.
(For those just tuning in: The book just mentioned is a collection of drawings accompanied by a title and a one-lined description. My seventh grade English teacher Mr. Kane pulled from this book for writing prompts. We, his class of the Camillus Middle School school year 1995-1996, would write a story or play based around the information provided to us. So, yeah, not much.)
Part of me wanted to stay and take in the room. Part of that part of me wanted to sit in the middle of the floor. Part of Adult Me said that time is of the essence and rang the Bell of Obviousness to signify I had places to be. Part of Adult Me said, Fuuuuuck no. I’m staying here.
All of me wanted to hop from square to square. So be it.
Part of me wanted to caption the picture: “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.” The majority of me refused.
I settled on the caption or title of the photograph: “Welcome. Wishing you the best of luck.” And I’m absolutely content with that decision. I’m 100 percent confident. It’s a nod to both creative minds previously mentioned, but the nod is in Allsburg’s direction.
There is no such thing as writer’s block. It’s all a misconception. Our mind and built up hesitancy gives birth to our own “escape the room” scenarios. A key is not needed and a way to get out need not be found. It’s a choice — be proactive or be idle — and this is a revolving door; come and go as we see fit.