
We New Yorkers aren’t often accustomed to the simple beauty of the afternoon sun shining in through a bathroom window curtain and reflecting off the side wall. I tried to capture the wonderful feeling of that afternoon glow.

Proust said that the novel is a mirror held up to life, and that the art is to be judged by the quality of the mirror, not of the life. Joyce’s variation on the theme is that the mirror–everyone else’s, one assumes, not his own–is a “low grade ha.”
– from The Ethical Spectacle
Merchantville, NJ