I had lunch with my parents today at one of their favorite new restaurants. But this window was just above my dad’s head all through the meal, and finally I had to take a picture of it.
This old building, in the process of getting revised for use as a restaurant, had a perfectly good window blocked up with concrete blocks. They’re not beautiful, they’re not attractive, and the patch-job hasn’t been well done. Instead of elegant work, it’s a slap in the face to the century of prior use this structure has seen. The contrast of pale concrete against the dark brick doesn’t serve any better purpose than the light that was blocked out by closing the window.
Think how many wasted opportunities this represents. This could have been a shelf with a beautiful object, or a frame for a painting. This could have been a window (or at least a light well, given how close the building on the other side is). It could have been so many things…
Instead, it’s an eyesore, a nod to expediency over thinking of the future use of the building.
How often does our teaching resemble this sort of blockage — shutting off possibilities before we allow them the chance to be explored?