Today I finished the one page graphic novel I started yesterday.
I’m generally not a finisher, but I finished it.
I can’t wait to start another one.
Lately, as I draw, I am not even trying. I don’t fight with the lines so much.
I have a confession to make. Despite the fact that the chicken castle is hella lopsided (did I just say hella? I am truly in a renaissance…I haven’t said that in 15 years.) (As I was saying…)
I have a strange gift of level. “What,” you may be wondering, “is a gift of level, strange or otherwise?” Well, I have a good eye for lines and the relationship of points perpendicular to the line. “Yes…” (You have no idea what I’m saying do you?) I’m saying that I can a hang a level shelf without a tape measure. None of my pictures hang crooked, even though the rest of my house is a relative mess. I have possessed this often -useless gift for many years. It has developed over time…ripening with each half-assed home improvement project. Now it seems I’ve made a synaptic leap and I am able to focus my perception on lines that form shapes. I know what things look like in my head. The translation speed to my hand is quickening, becoming more certain. I can actually feel my brain getting bigger. Or maybe it’s just cause I’m wearing my glasses and I imagine a correlation between spectacles and brain growth. Not entirely aesthetic. I think that, ideally, if one part atrophies, then another will grow, if not thrive.
A discussion I had with my son’s class about hedgehog sensory perception and how keen the creature’s sense of smell is.
“Yeah!” A child shouts out, “Just like so-and-so! (a blind 3rd grader) if there is a plate of food on a table, she can just go right to it! So, hedgehogs are kinda like her.”
later) You may be thinking that I didn’t catch my error in argument. If atrophy occurs in the visual sense, then a vision-based strength, like my gift of level, will be unlikely to develop. Well, vision (interpretation of visual stimuli) isn’t only about the mechanics of sight. The fine-tuned individuality of perceptual awareness must also be considered. I have lousy eyesight. However, I can still see fine detail in line configurations in part because I have a strong geometric sense. Even if I can’t read street signs at night, my vision serves me well.
It seems strange to me that in discussion of senses we hardly ever talk about the fact that nobody knows exactly what another person hears, sees, smells, tastes, or feels on their skin or in their bodies. These physiological capacities are (are they? They must be.) impacted by so many factors unique to us, there is sure to be great variation in our experience of the world. We assume that most of us are living in the midst of common understanding of our physical environment – – – but, what if we experience things more differently – albeit it in a nuanced way – than we thought could be reasonably possible? We are all alone in our sensory perception of the world. We may experience things similarly, but no one else lives in the world of our senses.