We all spend time at the window, our source of light and air when inside, and our vista to the world outside: the street, the trees, and the sky. And what of that windowsill, that all-important shelf? What do we have there, what rests there? Our small possessions, objects placed randomly or with deliberation, our personal still lifes: the fresh new bouquet in the small vase, the old, dry, fragile flowers, a ceramic leopard, a Oaxacan pot. These images are fragments of a recurring interest of mine.