The Geometry of Morning
There is a golden hour in an Indian home when the morning sun strikes the wooden jali or the window screen, casting diamond lattices across the cool stone floor. As a child, I would try to step only on the shadows, jumping from diamond to diamond as the day warmed. Light alone is formless, like water poured on sand; it requires a screen, a wall, an obstacle to reveal its poetry. Shadows are not the enemy of illumination — they are the punctuation marks that make the poem of the morning legible to our human eyes.
Photographer Hariprasad Chandran has captured that delicate domestic poetry in The Art of Shadows. It turns an ordinary window into a sanctuary of architectural elegance. How does the light enter your room when the day begins?
