There is a lot of glass in our house. This is the front door:
These are the doors into the sitting room from the hallway:
This is the window that separates the sitting room from the kitchen:
I am thinking of entering that one for the Turner prize.
You will notice a theme here. The original occupants of this house obviously had a thing (though one shudders to think what shape that thing might have been) for distorted glass.
Perhaps they were junkies who could no longer afford mind-bending drugs and decided to get their house to do it for them.
We have grown used to it over the years (though you do occasionally find yourself talking to someone in the next room and then finding that they are not in fact in there).
And we have actually added to it with this:
It’s called a glass brick, on the side of the kitchen that has no windows (because if there were we’d be able to see into next door’s back garden). It was Mrs Tin’s idea, the builder who put it in had never heard of it, and it shines light into a dark corner.
And this is distorted sunlight shining through it early this morning:
I think it’s beautiful.