Jalpuna

Seen

Autumn, 2002.

A little girl and her mother were in a car, driving to Portland's Northwest 21'st Avenue. Following close behind them was a second car.

The little girl kept a close eye on what was happening in that second car.

"Mommy, mommy, they talk a lot. Oh! Now they're laughing. They look so happy."

The driver of that second car was the woman I was dating at the time. She was also the little girl's aunt. And the passenger was me.

I think back on that moment when I catch myself watching people a little too closely. I remember the little girl's mother talking over lunch about how fascinated her daughter had been by the sight of us together in the car. I remember feeling a little weird about having been watched, and even weirder still about being judged by a six year old.

Even though I don't like being watched, I can't help watching.

And I can't help wondering.

It's almost impossible not to be a voyeur in my loft. The living room is literally surrounded by windows looking out on several apartment buildings.

my windows