Light and dark join together to provide unique or known shapes from which we perceive our surroundings, either removing from our perceptions or adding to them of what we call real. We see it, feel it, and unlike our early ancestors who drew on cave walls, we can provide a name for it. Most of the time. We find comfort in knowing, excitement or anxiety, even fear in the unknown. Sometimes I can see quite clearly what is ahead, I recognize it, perceive it, give it shape and stature, associate it with a past memory, and either something positive or negative. Why else would I smile as beautiful landscapes and scenery appear before me? What great surprise for every time the same perceptions are enhanced with that which I had not yet seen, but somehow could not wait to see and understand, and feel good about?
Sometimes I need a different vantage point to make out what is seemingly ahead. There is the closest, the clearest, the distractors of what lies in the distant, in the future of my new recognition. It is the inside and the outside of all I see, rushing through endless channels of data to try to match what is ahead, in order to evoke some greater feeling of discovery. It is to see it all in its finest detail to its most vague and undiscovered self.
There, in the distant past and recognizable future is something new, a shape, a movement, and a reflection. And all reflection seems in constant synchronization with its real reality that lays above and redirects your understanding of what it is below. It is discovery, it is emotion as if first seeing the Grand Canyon and not wanting to get to close to the edge as you gaze down. It is your new future view of what this is all the while realizing that it may never be called up again to compare with some other greater future. But it is real in your mind now and yours alone.
