I can see clearly

May 18, 2020

Greetings from the visionary,

When it comes to examples of the fallibility of humans, I have always been a sterling example.  As the years progress, I add to my curriculum vitae in this regard, proceeding from immature to decrepit, somehow rocketing past whatever sweet spot existed in my evolution.

I am either near sighted or far sighted, which I am told are the only two choices, but for reasons that will become apparent later, I can never remember which is which, or which I am.  My optometrist could tell you, I suppose, but in this moment, I can’t remember if that’s the doctor who looks in my eyes or at my feet.  Please don’t tell me, it just makes it worse later when I forget.

Recently I have been painting things I did not realize needed painting, which led me to be in awkward positions.  Not so much because of the realization of my poor observation, but because of the location of the aforementioned things in a state of paintlessness.  I will also admit here I had forgotten I agreed to tend to those orphan paint subjects and had to be gently reminded.  Those of you keeping track will already recognize a pattern.

Awkward positions are more common in my life now in part due to the previously mentioned ocular deficiency.  For those just skipping around, it was two paragraphs back.  Allow me to explain, using the instrument of digression, which is helpful when you cannot maintain a train of thought.

I chose the glasses I currently wear hoping they made me look more intelligent, or European, which in retrospect seemed more likely. There was also a desire to add some angular dimension to my otherwise homogenized oval head shape.  The enthusiastic young man who helped me select the frames was delighted with my choice, and so I left the store feeling both intelligent and somewhat less angular.  Later, in more ordinary light, I realized that the only thing that had changed in my appearance was that I could see the bags under my eyes magnified through the oversized European lenses.

The frames are merely decoration to hold the prescription glass in front of my eyes so that I can see things hidden from people with vision such as mine, whichever it is.  I was given a very attractive pair of glass rectangles with neatly hidden magnifying sections which I can access by tilting my head in a very specific position which brings imperative things into focus.  It’s a tricky process but I have nearly mastered it without making a spectacle of myself.  (There, the prerequisite pun is dealt, and we can proceed like adults.)

When reading, for example, if I hold my head in this magic position, all the text is clear.  Anything that interferes with this positioning, for example, laying down or sitting up, means my whole body has to adjust to find the correct angle.  Some people who have seen this bobbing and writhing guessed I was having some kind of seizure.

Which brings me back to painting.  In this episode of awkward positions, I was on the floor under a counter, painting things in places that were either too close or too far to see with any degree of confidence.  This led to an interesting combination of break dancing, yoga and origami, just to get things in focus for the split second I needed to apply paint.  Sort of like threading a needle with the help of a telescope.

I had the idea (or perhaps it was given to me, I forget) to use an old pair of glasses while painting, to avoid the hassle of the graduated lens gyrations.  My search led to a boneyard of old glasses so vast I began to second guess my age.  How long have I been wearing glasses?

Here I will admit to vanity, not unknown, nor exclusive, to those of my sex.  I tried on all of my old glasses and realized that none of them achieved the goal of improving how I look or how I see.  Somehow, I had fooled myself for decades into believing I looked intelligent or European or like some famous attractive person, when in fact I looked like me, only with glasses.  The foray also revealed that my previous prescriptions were of no value in my current effort to see the fine work required in the current awkward painting project.

This morning, with a fresh perspective and poorer light, the paint job looks good.  I will also confess I did not wear my glasses for the inspection, so it’s possible that my view of the results is not as focused as it might be.

Here is where I will introduce another of the myriad fallibilities in my arsenal, self-delusion.  It is a perfect partner to my weak eyesight and weaker memory to allow me to believe I am more capable, and more handsome, than I really am.  Perhaps these are my strengths, after all.

Hope this finds you seeing what you hoped to,

David

Copyright © 2020 David Smith