It must have been in 5th grade when we all had to get our eyes checked. All I remember is standing in the middle of this darkened room in the basement and some man I couldn’t see asked me to read letters in this bright spot on the wall. There must have been something in my eye, because everything looked really blurry.  So I got glasses.

I had mixed feelings about glasses. Afraid of being called ‘four eyes’ on one hand, and being able to recognize people from a distance without guessing who they were by the way they walked.  I didn’t wear them all the time though.

Mom’s new VW bug

Mom got this Volkswagen bug at about this time. It had no engine under the hood and it was bright red. I particularly remember the door to the glove compartment was an enameled red color.

It was a bright sunny day and I was sitting on the front stoop, looking around with some cheap binoculars I had just gotten.  I couldn’t believe it when I focused on the front fender of Mom’s car. Astonishing!  The edge was so sharp! I was so excited, I ran into the house to get Mom and show her how cool the fender of her car looked. I gave her the binoculars. She wasn’t impressed.

Some time later it dawned on me that everyone saw edges as crisp and sharp. To me it was just so captivating and interesting. Maybe my appreciation for the visible grew out of being poorly sighted for so long.

I probably was supposed to be wearing glasses at that time; I just don’t remember. Maybe the prescription wasn’t right, and focusing the binoculars enabled me to see clearly for the first time.

Whatever the sequence of events, The moment I focused on that fender was the moment my fascination with the visual began.

Today’s experiment

The sketch today is my mind’s eye memory of the moment I saw that fender.

There is nothing particularly abstract or profound about it. However it matches up pretty well with my visual memory of that moment. I am happy with it.