the other seeing

when i work with my eyes closed, i don't always feel as if i have lost contact with the world; sometimes, it's the opposite. sometimes, it makes me acutely aware of space, of the distance between objects, of the sounds and smells they put out. and, most curiously, it allows me to enter a place in my head where the world seems infinitely large, where i can never run out of space to store thoughts and words and ideas and dreams.

this is a space that i can only reach with my eyes closed. someone pointed oput to me recently, that when i was thrown off track i rolled my eyes at the ceiling as if the answer was written there, then closed my eyes as if i was reaching back into my skull. in a sense, i was.

sometimes, i'll mix chemicals in the dark, using a three foot dowel rod to push sodium thiosulfate crustals around at the bottom of a five gallon tub of solution. i cannot tell what i am doing i fi look at it, only if i feel it with the extension of my body plunging down to the bottom.

when i'm tuning a piano, i often close my eyes so my brain isn't distracted by things that are not just the bibration of notes against the wood. sometimes, i can taste the tone on the back of my tongue, and if the taste becomes too overwhelming, i'll put a piece of chocolate in my mouth and let it melt. i typed this without looking at the screen; i typed this with my eyes closed, leaning back into my hod, letting my eyes reach towards the back of mu skull.

i assume it's riddled with typos.

27 February 2018 22:02