here come those eyes (thots) pt 1
Thought of the day:
why are my eyes creepy to me?
...yeah, yeah, sounds kind of odd, I know, but it's just...something that's always been there. I'm regularly creeped out or confused by my...eyes.
Not the physical aspect, I guess. As straightforward descriptively as they are -- having just checked in the mirror, since I pretty quickly forget how they (or I) look -- round, startling orbs darkening from the middle and lightening outwards; framed by dark brown brows; underlined by dark circles since late middle school; ringed with thick dark lashes (which I've never had cause to complain about); sometimes blinking out from behind my minimalist glasses (or not). They rarely light up, except in the brightest of sunlight (at a specific angle)--a "glowing" trait that runs from my grandfather's side of the family (and showed up more in my older brother than I), generally choosing to remain dark and slightly hooded; I found, even at a young age, that staring or opening them wide brought about an uncomfortable intensity and sense of surprise. When smiling, I try to keep them wider open -- else they're seemingly consumed in the structure of my face (in a way some have described as cute or genuine, which perhaps isn't entirely negative).
...physical descriptions aside, I doubt that's what bothers (or gets to) me about mis ojos. Nor could I claim an obsession with them -- as any dancer or actor or curious young adolescent likely would, I simply have spent a fair amount of time observing them (myself, I guess--kinda odd) via mirror or photograph or whatever other medium there is. A worthwhile study, I suppose--and honestly, I very much enjoy the eyes of others; the light, chilled blues of my older sister Beffs, wide light greens of my black cat, the dark maroons of my cousin and greeny-hazels of my Seattle friend, the heterochromiac wonders of one of my dance mates, the bewildering chocolate browns of The bean...
(not going into getting lost in certain people's eyes, 'cause man, is that a struggle)
(ok, srsly, you've made ur point, enuff with the moody eye photography)
Seeing all the aspects of them -- how they move oddly, ticcing and taccing back and forth
(if you know what I mean?). The drifting, deer-in-the-headlights gaze when I'm pensive. Staring, which generally borders on coming off as hostile (unintentional, but simply the shape of my face). Daydreaming, when they wander off in a rare, neutral mode, free as my brain shambles through...whatever it is it's shambling through? The vivid, mischievous glint they get when I'm amused or close to laughter (also runs in my mom's side of the family); their starry, almost blank tendency when overlaid with wonder at something (a night sky, art, a spider on the wall). The foolish way they unevenly cross in silliness, or drift apart when I'm tired or not wearing my glasses.
Yet, the majority of the time, tending to be brooding, critical, or calculated, and rarely without a tinge of sadness behind them at unguarded moments.
And, for that reason, they're (most noticeably) guarded. Almost always guarded.
*cue moody/self aware background music*
NO, not as if I'm some masterful secret holder, or that this blog is about to take a dramatically tragic turn. I've just learned that...there's a lot to (and behind) eyes. They're an essential part of our expression, bonding, sharing, and tell a lot--such a lot--about ourselves (and what's going on inwardly). And...perhaps that scares me a little.
Creeps me out, so to speak.
--there's a lot more to say--and more bits and pieces I have on this; it's started to become an intriguing little topic for me now--so till next Wednesday, when we'll continue this vein of thought.
As fascinating and all, does it make sense at all? Or is this just me?
✌
till next time,
~hw
why are my eyes creepy to me?
...yeah, yeah, sounds kind of odd, I know, but it's just...something that's always been there. I'm regularly creeped out or confused by my...eyes.
Not the physical aspect, I guess. As straightforward descriptively as they are -- having just checked in the mirror, since I pretty quickly forget how they (or I) look -- round, startling orbs darkening from the middle and lightening outwards; framed by dark brown brows; underlined by dark circles since late middle school; ringed with thick dark lashes (which I've never had cause to complain about); sometimes blinking out from behind my minimalist glasses (or not). They rarely light up, except in the brightest of sunlight (at a specific angle)--a "glowing" trait that runs from my grandfather's side of the family (and showed up more in my older brother than I), generally choosing to remain dark and slightly hooded; I found, even at a young age, that staring or opening them wide brought about an uncomfortable intensity and sense of surprise. When smiling, I try to keep them wider open -- else they're seemingly consumed in the structure of my face (in a way some have described as cute or genuine, which perhaps isn't entirely negative).
...physical descriptions aside, I doubt that's what bothers (or gets to) me about mis ojos. Nor could I claim an obsession with them -- as any dancer or actor or curious young adolescent likely would, I simply have spent a fair amount of time observing them (myself, I guess--kinda odd) via mirror or photograph or whatever other medium there is. A worthwhile study, I suppose--and honestly, I very much enjoy the eyes of others; the light, chilled blues of my older sister Beffs, wide light greens of my black cat, the dark maroons of my cousin and greeny-hazels of my Seattle friend, the heterochromiac wonders of one of my dance mates, the bewildering chocolate browns of The bean...
(not going into getting lost in certain people's eyes, 'cause man, is that a struggle)
(ok, srsly, you've made ur point, enuff with the moody eye photography)
Seeing all the aspects of them -- how they move oddly, ticcing and taccing back and forth
(if you know what I mean?). The drifting, deer-in-the-headlights gaze when I'm pensive. Staring, which generally borders on coming off as hostile (unintentional, but simply the shape of my face). Daydreaming, when they wander off in a rare, neutral mode, free as my brain shambles through...whatever it is it's shambling through? The vivid, mischievous glint they get when I'm amused or close to laughter (also runs in my mom's side of the family); their starry, almost blank tendency when overlaid with wonder at something (a night sky, art, a spider on the wall). The foolish way they unevenly cross in silliness, or drift apart when I'm tired or not wearing my glasses.
Yet, the majority of the time, tending to be brooding, critical, or calculated, and rarely without a tinge of sadness behind them at unguarded moments.
And, for that reason, they're (most noticeably) guarded. Almost always guarded.
*cue moody/self aware background music*
NO, not as if I'm some masterful secret holder, or that this blog is about to take a dramatically tragic turn. I've just learned that...there's a lot to (and behind) eyes. They're an essential part of our expression, bonding, sharing, and tell a lot--such a lot--about ourselves (and what's going on inwardly). And...perhaps that scares me a little.
Creeps me out, so to speak.
--there's a lot more to say--and more bits and pieces I have on this; it's started to become an intriguing little topic for me now--so till next Wednesday, when we'll continue this vein of thought.
As fascinating and all, does it make sense at all? Or is this just me?
✌
till next time,
~hw
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