For as long as my memory allows, I have connected with objects in an intimate way. Luckily, I am still filled with that childhood wonder that convinces me everything is alive, each nook, blotch, bump, and smell knows its purpose and humbly flaunts it. As a child, I never thought about the designer. My appreciation for an object's intricacies and quirks was directed at it's physical properties, not the unseen mind who dreamed it nor the hands who created it. Young children frequently have the ability to live in the present, appreciating an object for the sensations it brings rather than analyzing its history.
I can vividly remember such an vibrant appreciation for a seemingly simple object from my early childhood. A simple square hand mirror with a notch sliced out of the bottom. I found this notch confusing and intriguing. Sure, it was just a little mirror, but the simple alteration in its design caught my attention and held it tightly. I noticed the shape of the missing piece fit the bridge of my nose perfectly. Holding the mirror reflective side up, I was suddenly afforded access to the world above me without straining my neck. With this new power, I became acquainted with the intricate architecture of my ceilings like never before. Wandering around for hours, stepping over doorway over hangs, in and out of the strange yet beautiful hardwood grid that formed my fancy ceilings.
So many new questions!
Why on earth do our ceilings have such complex patterns?
What function do they serve? No one ever even looks at them normally. Its a good thing our floors aren’t constructed like this...
If that silly little notch in that small simple mirror were filled, I wouldn’t have given that mirror a second glance. If my learned analytical thought process dominated my imaginative curiosity, I would have reasoned the notch was fit for a thumb without ever considering holding it up to my nose and under my eyes. How silly, that a little missing piece was able to complete the picture.
If that silly little notch in that small simple mirror were filled, I wouldn’t have given that mirror a second glance. If my learned analytical thought process dominated my imaginative curiosity, I would have reasoned the notch was fit for a thumb without ever considering holding it up to my nose and under my eyes. How silly, that a little missing piece was able to complete the picture.
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