Gate, Passage, Light
Jill Coffey
Gate
A gate is a measure of divide and mystery. Whether tightly locked or widely cast open, it suggests to all
that pass by it the preciousness of what lies beyond; a threshold between what is accessible and what is
protected. In the city, a gate is an outward expression of hierarchy and of desire for privacy. Small apertures
in the solidity of the walls give hints of the treasure; foliage crawls over the coursing and down into view. It
is both a statement of protection and means of taunting. Paradoxically, it is the restrictiveness of a gate that
creates the allure of what is within.
Passage
Through the gate there is a passage. The passage presents a new plateau of restrictiveness and mystery.
The gate has been conquered, but victory does not disguise the discomfort that one has entered a forbidden
place. Yet, the passage does not present the stores of the sought treasure; it is a new threshold of apprehension. The decision to pass through the gate is momentary, a small allowance of mischief. Advancing down
the passage is to knowingly take on the violation of another’s sanctuary.
Light
Down the passage, light is the redeemer. It defines both the path and the destination. Suddenly a journey
that was at first foreboding has turned into adventure. The light gives detail to the heaviness of the protective walls. They are no longer looming and restrictive, but simply a surface and a texture for the light to play
across. The journey has ceased to be defined by the destination and has instead found treasure in the moments along the way.