Through the eyepiece of an optical telescope, you see something right in front of you, and your brain says, there it is: a jellybean, four feet away. Of course, Neptune is 17 times the mass of Earth and far-flung as it gets, but that doesn’t compute. It might be the farthest thing you’ll ever see, but it looks so close, and in the absence of contextual clues, the ordinary functioning of perspective fires and misses.
And so your awe is self-inflicted. Your awe is one you name to yourself. You almost have to say it out loud, “that’s Neptune,” forcing the cognitive dissonance into place. Once there, accepting that your mind has seen farther than biological limitation is its own challenge; the implications take their time unfolding.
Looking back on 2012, there were dramatic moments, to be sure: the vindication of Obamacare; the electoral triumph of the forty-seven per cent; the rise and fall of Gangnam style. But just as defining, I’d argue, were the year’s countless half-starts and baby steps. By that, I mean the national…
“The designer of today re-establishes the long-lost contact between art and the public, between living people and art as a living thing. … There should be no such thing as art divorced from life”—Bruno Munari (via explore-blog)
University of Cambridge researchers studied the effects of hiding children’s eyes on their feelings of invisibility, and discovered some very interesting things about how young kids view their “self” versus their “body”, which you should check out.
“… it would seem that children apply the principle of joint attention to the self and assume that for somebody to be perceived, experience must be shared and mutually known to be shared, as it is when two pairs of eyes meet.”
Apparently kids only exist when you make eye contact with them. Remember that when you don’t want them to feel invisible.