When Darling Daughter was little, she saw eyes everywhere. Sometimes whole faces. On the façades of houses, for example: two upstairs windows for eyes and a front door for a nose. Or in the bathtub, where the round chrome disk with a protruding lever that went up and down to operate the drain became a proboscis, with the two screws on either side becoming eyes. She'd say, "Mommy, see the eyes??" She always had (still has) the best imagination, problem being that seeing eyes everywhere really scared her at times. Like all those eyes were watching. Not that seeing faces or shapes-within-shapes is all that unusual or remarkable ...
Speaking of which, if we bother — why not?? — to expand/dissect the scene above for a quick second, is it just me or is there a face in that log well-on-its-way to becoming driftwood on First Beach?? And could you or I or anyone make that clamshell stand on end like that again if we tried?? Could you make the waves break and the seaweed align just so in perfectly parallel fashion?? How about that odd knob of well-established driftwood that struck me as some sort of knobby knee out at that beach mid-way along the Cliff Walk at the end of Marine Avenue?? Grass growing out of a rock?? A fire hydrant on Ocean Drive?? Honestly, sometimes I have no idea what I'm looking at or why. Just playing games with myself (reflecting??), I guess ...
And I've thought about hidden faces and compelling clamshells before, way back when. It's hard to imagine how long ago now; also hard to think a new thought. Click here to see what I mean. I've even pondered knees before, thus the subconscious (totally senseless) comparison between driftwood and a knee. Does anyone ever think a new thought?? See a new thing?? Doubtful. Looking at the same-old-things differently may have to suffice ...
