In both my writing and in my dreams, I often have difficulty seeing faces, and only today did it occur to me the reason why this is. My first impression of others has always been garnered by sensing energy, thus my focus on the realm of the subtle diverts my attention away from the physical. It truly is a peculiar thing that sometimes the most obvious parts of ourselves might take years to even realize, and then to verbalize.
These characters that appear in my writing and those who move within my dreams are often blurred, their physical traits washed as if a painter took thinner and muddied the lines and contours of their face, leaving them physically indistinct. It is no secret that in art, I tend to gravitate towards masked faces, obscured faces, faces of a distorted blur.
As it has been said time and time before, and something that both the physicist and the metaphysician will agree- we are energy bodies first, physical second. Then I ask myself what is a name, and what of a face, when these things ultimately matter not. And so I arrange these invisible waves that lie before me; I pattern a silhouette made entirely of vibrations, molding frequencies in the next dimension- the nexus of my knowing of others. And this is how you become absorbed in another, whether in words or in life, by a recognition that extends beyond the visible.