ok. Though i don't often spend a great deal of time with assigning meaning, i'm looking at my constant relationship with Eyes. When i used to make the Art Dolls...their faces were carved with my grandfather's pen knife. I would always begin with an eye. Drawings and then cloth, now Cloths with Drawing almost always have eyes.
Eyes.
Maybe it's because nothing really needs to be "said". The eye speaks.
i woke last night at around 2:30 am as i do and sat up a while. Thinking about the eyes of Christine Blasey Ford. I juiced up this laptop and went to various news sites and sat, staring at her eyes. Then i shut it all down and did Metta. For her. For Us. For me. i could imagine her in her home with two front doors, sitting, awake in the dark at the end of maybe the second longest day in her life. Her eyes wide. I sat with her. Did Metta.
Emrie and i look at National Geographics. Emrie can touch Eye, Nose, Mouth, Ear. Emrie knows eyes. You remember i told of the Nat Geo article of full face transplants, and tho they were confusing, because there was no recognizable nose or mouth, Emrie found and put her finger on the eye. When we go through the pages, she likes to have a spoon and she "feeds" the pictures. A while ago, she immediately saw the eye of the octopus, i said....eye....and she touched it with her one year old index finger, then "fed" the octopus with her spoon...to a place she imagined a mouth
