America is stuffed with them. We are stuffed into them. Traveling through North America one realizes just how many cars there are. They have become an extension of ourselves. We experience the life outside through them - the windows are the portals to the out-there, the other us. Protecting and keeping us cozy, safe in our mobile containment unit. The car door window, frames a singular image. The irregular, hard edge coloured metal car door is free as it’s own object, especially when it is wide open. It becomes a sculptural element. Displayed as a free standing art object with the world acting as the gallery. “There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.” - Jack Kerouac, On The Road. Kerouac romanced the road. We’ve overloaded the road.