Half full, half empty. Worn and washed up on the beach.
“Land Ho!” “Pass me the glass! No, not that one, the telescope!”
Through a glass, darkly. Nose to the pane. The ceiling. Don’t throw stones.
Cool and transparent, insulating, sparkly…glass is all around. I look through it all day long, even when I’m outside and have for years. I remember leaving the optometrist’s showroom with my first pair of glasses on. I looked up to the foothills and saw leaves on the trees up there. Suddenly, there was depth and contrast in the distance. It was a miracle. The first time I looked through a microscope was a miracle, too. I imagine indigenous people finding obsidian and cutting their fingers on it, rejoicing. What stuff!
I feel my life getting dull. I’ve been working hard at the book-selling business, rather repetitively. I need to wake up to the scintillating delight of life. This is a perfect visual reminder!