I asked Art if I could post a picture of his work but he declined. That left me feeling a little blue. Waves of rejection washed over me for a nano second before a memory of a lovely sunset on the Sharp Park beach in Pacifica, California shot into my frontal cortex. It didn’t hurt, really. Problem was solved. I had a vision of natural art.
When I close my eyes I sometimes see random images. It’s the tape of all I’ve seen through my old brown eyes playing again for me. The images are actually sepia-toned, not color, so they must be old. It’s like a conversation I had with my eye-doc recently. I had some surgery and was having ocular migraines in the weeks that followed. Concerned I was experiencing some serious problems with my eyes I went in for an office visit. He reassured me, “Joe, your eyes are fine; it’s all in your brain.” Little comfort when your peripheral vision comes and goes, but, like he said…
Work of Art, it’s all in your brain!
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