They say the eye is the window to the soul. A camera if you will, into the heart of man. The defining moment of his realness, or the fabrication of his persona. What does a photographic heart look like? Can I stare into your eyes and take with me an image of your intention? I marvel at the eye’s genuine and the revelation of the tongue. A man ponders in his mind the person he is and speaks his heart into existence. A dark person cannot hide behind his eyes, and a good soul cannot produce a contradicting reflection. The bond between the mind and the heart gives way to sight, and gives birth to the eyes to see. We can discern the shape of thought just by the color of words. We can lift the eyelid of speech and stare down the throat of truth. It is a discernment not everyone will possess; the ability to see beyond what you could see.
The Third Eye
Mrs. Labno was a small woman. Short and petite with a splash of hip. It would not have occurred to me that she was mid-wife to my third eye. That this little lady would lend it to me all small and delicate and black, and I cherished the way it hung from my neck like a giant eye engraved in my chest. I wasn’t an alien but I had transformed. One minute I was in class and the next I was at an assembly. I could record twice as much information and move between space like the wind. No one saw me coming. It wasn’t until later that they saw how I invaded their privacy, catching their mouths in the middle of conversations and freezing basketballs mid-air before they reached the hoop. Cheerleaders died when I separated their teeth and caught the gum underneath their tongues. No one was safe. The optical controls were far more attentive than my other two and the vibration reduction kept the images still that wished to crawl away. I was a junior in High School when I joined the yearbook team and Mrs. Labno introduced me to photography. I would forever uphold passion for the third eye.
The best thing about pictures is capturing a single moment. By stopping time in its tracks you freeze not just that moment but also the emotion stamped into it. Not only do you remember what you felt but you also experience that feeling again. Every glance is a blast back to one moment; the second movement was blessed with stillness; light, color, and atoms all bonded together and locked tight into the single shape of laughter, joy, sadness, or a relaxed coolness; giving you the permission to hold time in the palms of your hands, and the miracle of revisiting yesterday if only to feel what you felt again.
This picture was taken almost three years ago, and the history behind it always makes me laugh. Hubby and I had just boarded the Carnival Conquest for a trip to Jamaica, Cozumel, and the Cayman Islands. I wasn’t smiling so hard because of excitement necessarily, but because I was actually not just smiling, I was laughing. These people were worse than paparazzi (not like I live the lifestyle to know what that feels like but I imagine it was something like this). They practically pushed us in front of the camera. Imagine walking down the street… (no, gliding is more like it) yea, gliding down the street encased in your own thoughts. You are somewhere between right now and yesterday and tomorrow; basking in the joy of this moment. Imagining what this week away from the world would be like. At the same time your accounting for the items you carry with you: tickets, card, purse, luggage….smile! Just like that someone snaps a picture, somehow simultaneously pushing you both in front of the camera. A burst of pending excitement is no longer concealed to your inward parts, but is about to give birth to an eruption of butterflies once protected in your stomach and are now visible in the creases of your face. But you’ve got to hold it all together with a pose that won’t look like you’re really rolling on the floor laughing, and will make the most gorgeous couple headlines at the same time.