Today, I trusted my eyes to a stranger. After blasting them with light and mapping out the backyard of my retina, she gave me a clean bill of health and brand spanky eyes (ie: contacts).
I drove home in large, plastic sunglasses and couldn't see the lentils in my soup at lunch, but when I thought to ask the boys the time on the microwave, I just looked myself. Sha-zam! 11:50, clear and crisp. Lovely. I want to go everywhere and look at the world.
For now, there's this: my poem up at Linebreak.
2 comments:
Neat! I remember that feeling (way back in second grade).
I just read an article about a woman who only saw two dimensions, and she became a neurologist and figured out that she only saw in two dimensions, and went about working with ophthalmologists (jesus, that's a weird word) to train her eyes to see in 3-D, and it worked! And the article was very poetic and beautiful, because she was describing seeing space for the first time.
(Getting carried away.) Anyway, congratulations!
Thx, Elizabeth. I'd like to read the article. Funny, the doctor I saw today was telling me about similar (if less interesting/poetic) experiences. I, apparently, have a problem with convergence that I can retrain through eye exercises. She was interested in explaining to me about how the eye is just a function of the brain and its perceptions...the human body baffles me sometimes. Or the mind, I guess, right?
For now, dilation causes vertigo, and I want the sun to go down...
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