when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

D.D., Dangerous Driver

For dubious reasons, I am rarely a designated driver. I am a very dangerous driver however, and have been for most of my life. My D.D. habits have very little to do with drinking (in the day time anyway), but with my obsessive seeing habits. I love to watch the figures that appear in the clouds and to watch them shape-shift as I drive. Pan grins at Medusa who turns into a walrus, this sort of thing. I also am taken with each shade of green I can identify. At dusk you can differentiate shades of greens better than any other time of day. I heard this on a radio show when I was very young. The radio person said that at dusk you could observe over two hundred shades of green. I have been counting these shades ever since.

I love to look at everything (except the road)all of the time. I love architecture and trees and just yesterday I was so taken with the white hydrangeas which were co-mingling with various leafy hostas, that I stopped in the merger lane to stare at them long enough to call the attention of a young policeman. He was kind enough to give me a warning and not a ticket.

My brother used to accuse me of looking in my rear view mirror -after- making a lane change. I believe I can feel if someone is behind me. Often the sounds of horns blaring is a good indicator that sometimes I am mistaken.

My mother is blind, I have mentioned this before, I know. Nearly twelve years ago, I went for a visit to her eye specialist to have my eyes examined. I was given a diagnosis of R.P, an eye disease that may eventually lead to blindness.

My compulsive observing behavior kicked into high gear. My constant thoughts: I want to see everything, what if I couldn't see all of these sights and colors and textures? Will I remember them? Would I ever want to paint again? Would I be able to paint if I could not see, what would blindness look like?

A friend sent me an email yesterday, the title-Blind Artist. I'd copy it here but the pictures didn't open up, so I searched the artist. Lisa Fittipaldi. Her story is titled, "A Brush With Darkness."

It seems that she has saved all her images in her mind and can still demonstrate shades of light and dark, color, texture, balance and beauty. Fascinating. Lisa Fittipaldi.com

(I am having trouble linking again, but I am adding her site to my links section)

5 comments:

Michelle O'Neil said...

Cool Stacy.

With your imagination, you will never go blind.

thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy said...

I think it's lovely that you stop to notice, with or without a diagnosis. From what I've seen, most people walk through life with their eyes closed.

Though I feel compelled to add that I hope your condition results in the best possible outcome (better observing the world around you) rather than the worst.

Mystic Wing said...

I expect that you see much more clearly because of the diagnosis.

And boy, do I understand what you mean about seeing everything when you drive.

Matt said...

Nothing like driving to present OCD like the wind kicking up dust.

tom said...

Stacy, blindness may not be a problem for you if you don't keep your eyes on the road!! Be careful, movie star!