in one of three kitchens I have known, if the upper door is opened, tenderly, there is light, falling upon what could be taken as grace, and lines like grasses. and a shape, like the nesting of the earth, or a cupped palm, cool and somewhat fleeting in its manner, or shy, and a special space, and i am saving that space for you. it might be filled by you, another person, a friend, with an unfamiliar series of deeds and thoughts, forever private. it is a space offered. it is a gift of trust, for a kitchen is an inner place, where breezes from oncoming storms can settle in and help. hear me, i am writing this for you.
Jeffrey Hartnett is a retired professor of architecture from the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. After earning degrees from the University of Virginia and the University of Texas at Austin, he taught at various universities, from coast-to-coast, including for two years in China. He lives in Portland Oregon. jeffhartnett.weebly.com
