Light is illusive. Mystical. The by-product of heat. Together, they enable life. Without light, or the ability to capture it, we humans are crippled. Handicapped. But what does it mean. "To see?" What is it we see? It is not things, but the light reflected from presumed things that is captured by light-sensitive materials located in our head, transformed and communicated to our brains. Seeing is itself a learned activity, albeit learned early - for the most part. To distinguish thing "A" from thing "B." Daddy's nose from his eye. The cat from the carpet.

Our modern urban environments jostle and jumble light, blurring the boundaries between things. Some light originates from the sun. More is created by humans. The light ricochets, bouncing from streets to chrome through to faces before landing on the light-sensitive membranes in the back of our eyes. Juxtaposing patterns, colors, words and symbols dance in a sometimes anarchic chaos, occasionally in beautiful harmony. Constantly, we are asked "What is real; What is not?" Until the brain simply accepts, pushing beyond the here and now into new realms of "seeing."

The urban chaos and jumble is amplified with glass. Whether apparently transparent or silver-backed, curved or flat-plane, some light comes back from the surface. The partial image of an auto coming back, in reverse, along with the hat and the coat from behind the window. The patterns multiply; the juxtaposition increases; the images confront and interlace each other in patterns of colorful poetry. The brain first sorts through and seeks the real before pushing beyond and seeing anew.