Depth and dimension
New vision, new noticing…
How this new seeing of depth and dimension changes everything.
All that I see, and all that I make. My vision journey — not the kind that comes with three days on a hilltop and a bunch of psychedelics, but the kind that’s about what I actually see with my eyes — brings a new way of seeing depth and dimension.
Everywhere. In my art and everywhere I look.
Even absent the psychedelics, it’s been a trip.
If you’re following along, you may remember that I had gotten a preliminary diagnosis and a referral to a specialist to help me deal with some very interesting symptoms that made driving scary and caused a bunch of other interesting distortions.
This latest set of lenses has brought depth and dimension I’ve never seen before.
What used to be 2D is now — more…?
- Traffic lights: The lights themselves look like they’re floating a foot or two in front of the fixture itself. Very weird and completely manageable.
- Colors on a package or a piece of art are on distinct layers; some above and some below the apparent surface (from my new vantage point, who’s to say?).
It was really disorienting at first. (Haha understatement.)
My brain’s adjusting, again. Another powerful example of how we’re wired for resilience.
I’m really enjoying:
- The fact that driving’s normalized and so much less scary. Lane markings are parallel again — thank god — and I can actually tell which lane the cars to the right of me are in. Phew. What a relief.
- How this unprecedented increased depth and dimension in what I see is shaping and changing my artwork.
I’m still having problems not being able to hit a target on my phone and tablet accurately. I’m not sure I want to tweak to fix that in my prescription just now because of the multi-dimensional upside to all of this.
I’m discovering that many artists had vision issues. Matisse and Monet. DaVinci and Degas. I’m in good company.
I’m collaging.
Like mad. Look what’s coming to/through me as I explore depth and dimension in entirely new ways.
One-of-a-kind frameable greeting cards, 7×5″ on kraft paper, with envelopes.
You may not be seeing what I see; I’m guessing some of the feeling of depth and dimension’s coming through. Tell me…
These one-of-a-kind frameable greeting cards are available to be re-homed to you!
They’re 7×5 inches, on kraft paper, with envelopes.
If they please you, buy one or more. $10 each plus shipping and sales tax, 10% off three or more.
Want to own one or more?
Send an email, or call, or send smoke signals. I’ll send a payment link and happily send one or more of these your way.
See that semicircle, top center? With the upside-down 180? That’s a skin pulled from a cup I use to hold my tools, one that catches a bunch of drips over time, which dry and conform to the shape of the cup. After a while, the skin’s tough enough to pull off the cup. And it takes the imprint of whatever’s punched into the cup surface with it. (I’m assuming it’s an 180ml cup.)
I used to love grave rubbing when I was younger. I get the same kind of thrill when something like this shows up; the thrill of surprise and discovery.
As Vincent Van Gogh wrote to his brother, looking out the window at the school he was working at in London, “It’s so beautiful; I must show you how it looks.”
How do things look to you? Talk to me in the comments. xoxo
Originally published at https://magnoliaswest.com.
