A New Year
I am committing to a blog. I am not committing to any sort of regular schedule, but I will share my creative journey for those of you who want to follow the occasional story.
I had cataract surgery in Nov (right eye) and Dec (left eye) which has taken me from a lifetime of being extremely near-sighted to being far-sighted. During this weird adjustment period, I saw a quote on social media that made the point that we truly see with our brains, not with our eyes - that our eyes may collect the information, but the brain interprets it. That started me thinking about how the changes to my collection organs had altered my daily reality in myriad ways, from waking in the night and being able to tell the time without reaching for my glasses, to driving - driving, for pity’s sake - without glasses, to stumbling into door frames in the strange absence of near vision. Then my doctor used the word “aperture” during one of my follow up visits in an analogy that immediately resonated given my background in photography. Why am I mentioning all this? This unexpected confrontation with the mechanics of sight, and the resulting distortion of my own accepted, never questioned, reality has led to a project. That project is Aperture.
Like many of my more conceptual endeavors, a book feels the appropriate form and mixed media the appropriate medium. The design details are still in a bit of a swirl, but I did execute a rough prototype today just to give myself a sense of direction.
As we start the new year, I’ll be bringing Aperture to life and sharing the process here. I feel a real sense of urgency. On Jan. 11, I get measured for new prescription glasses. With progressive lenses, I’ll once again have seamless vision in all ranges, I’ll once again begin my days with the reach for my glasses, I’ll once again recognize myself in the mirror, and this awareness of observing myself in the act of seeing will all fade away.
Text and images by Wanda Oliver, all rights reserved.
