a waking moment
This morning as she was beginning her day, Amy grabbed a piece of Kleenex to blow her nose. As she pulled it out of the flexible plastic slit glued into the top of the cardboard box, she looked at it and said to herself, “What an incredible thing THIS is!”
Perhaps, she was thinking about the soft, fibrous and absorbent, warm tissue made for our skin. Its consistent white color was translucent in the morning light, like a young child’s ear. It also easily reflected light off its surface. Fluid forms followed the changing folds forming shadows. With the tension of the pull, creases developed as wonderful contrasts between sharply lit and darkened shapes creating edges. The more gentle folds made smooth, subtle transitions of tonal symphonies. But the darks were never black. The shadows were hardly middle gray. Even the tissue under the lip of the box appeared to remain a light middle gray as it captured what ever ambient light reflected into the container.
The writer, Annie Dillard, talks about noticing things as a way of creating literature. This is good advice for scientists and artists too. These are the observations that produce insight and feed our art with possibility.