"The eye has to travel."
The eye has to travel
when it's been immersed in the darkness of winter.
When snow didn't come in the way snow comes,
and couldn't brighten in the way it brightens
(because damn if that snow didn't go dump itself elsewhere),
and the retinas need searing technicolor.
Walls of it.
Mountains of it.
Sheets of it.
Did I mention the walls of it?
The eye has to travel because when darkness reaches that unbearable point, in the way darkness does, the eye becomes sluggish.
It stops seeing the obvious.
And goes deep inside itself.
And it forgets that the greater part of seeing
is to stop constantly looking down at one's own work,
and to instead,
look up and be in awe of someone else's.
Someone who is doing more work
Artist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other.