Window with Glazed Glass
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This painting no longer exists.
In July 2026 I painted over it. What stands on it now is called Where Yellow Returns — a single yellow line travelling a black field and returning to itself, and the tooth that runs under all of that black is the tooth of this painting.
I did not paint over it because it failed. I stood in front of it and felt nothing, and the topography was still magnificent. So the image went and the body stayed.
Look at what it gave. Window with Glazed Glass was a Geometric Splendor work — grids, stacked panels, structure softened but never abandoned. There is no geometry in Where Yellow Returns. It is all curve and knot and travelling line. And yet if you stand close, the black field underneath is combed in vertical blocks, tiled and rectilinear, because a painting from a collection I no longer work in is still holding the whole thing up.
The dead collection is structuring the living one.
The old colors leak, too. The silver-grey patch near the center of Where Yellow Returns is this painting, showing through. I did not plan that. It is a gift from a canvas that had stopped speaking.
I wrote in 2021 that this was a painting about looking through — through resistance, through memory, through mood. I did not know how literal that would become.
→ See what it became: Where Yellow Returns
Written in 2021
Window with Glazed Glass (2021) is about distance — the filtered kind. This 72 x 60 inch acrylic painting, part of the Geometric Splendor Collection, explores how perception changes when softened by distortion. It’s a meditation on barriers: subtle, translucent, and ever-present.
Rendered in cool greys, foggy whites, and translucent blue washes, the canvas mimics the blur of light behind textured glass. Geometry appears, but not sharply — grid-like forms emerge, then dissolve. The edges are never crisp. Everything is softened, obscured, suggested.
This work was inspired by moments of quiet observation — the kind where you look out a window and realize what you’re really seeing is your own inner weather. The glazed glass becomes a metaphor for perception: you’re never seeing the world directly. You're seeing it through history, mood, memory.
In tone and atmosphere, Window with Glazed Glass aligns with the conceptual restraint of Agnes Martin, whose works evoke clarity and introspection through structure and haze. But where Martin leaned toward spiritual minimalism, I lean toward ambiguity — toward emotional veils rather than pure light.
This is not a painting about looking out. It’s about looking through — through resistance, through memory, through mood.
As part of the Geometric Splendor Collection, Window with Glazed Glass balances structure with softness. It offers no clear view, but invites stillness, introspection, and the gentle acknowledgment that sometimes, clarity comes from blur.
