Wherever the morning light falls is struck with a certain timelessness. In those slanted rays, objects are transformed into elements in a still life made for contemplation. They are elevated from things one uses into things that simply are. The light of the morning not only enframes, it penetrates, it reveals; it is truth. In the morning, light and shadow are actors that play across the room in tableaux. A good room holds the light, carefully, so that all things within it glow radiantly.