You wake up. Your eyes are closed. You feel a tug, and now you are being held up. Your eyes blink, open for the first time, but you see only nonsense. There are sounds, but you can’t really hear them, just an undifferentiated mess. You see blackness, a bit of greyish light as you are passed around.
Before your eyes float black and white shapes, indistinct yet alive. You wish to make sense of this, to understand. Strokes and smudges in shades of grey struggle before you as you fade in and out of sleep.
Objects shift into brief definition in your growing focal point and you are beginning to tell light from darkness. You begin to focus on things. Images are recognized before your eyes. You see a woman’s face, a stuffed animal, spinning blobs above the railing, just out of reach. Soon you are seeing colour for the first time. Red, yellow, green, orange growing in intensity each time you take notice. Blues and purples follow. You are not sure how long you have been alive, but it seems like a pretty long time.
Focus. Things pop into vision and become reality, then disappear from existence just as fast, out of sight. Your vision is filled with myriad gradations of colour, light with intensity beyond your ability to believe.
You are the intrepid explorer, seeing before you hundreds of blades of grass each in its own shades of green – teal and moss, mint and mantis – each alive in its particular, individual movements. Here you are, experiencing an unimaginable exploration of perception as you build your own ability to perceive with each passing moment. You see the heat of the sun bounce from the pavement – a fascinating merging of yellow, orange and violet – in roaring swells and explosions of shimmering dispersion.
Images in this foreign wilderness that is your back-yard drift across your vision as your eyes wobble chameleon-like around your head. Crawling along, you look up to see a towering figure walking across the lawn. You dream of one day walking on feet, just like your father. Your shoulders shake in the coolness of the early evening, an ocean of dark tones moving in over the light as day gives way to night and the air smells just like a flower.
A visionary autodidact – this is what you are. Composing the world exactly as you see it, no influence outside this one experience; nothing outside your own belief. There is no limit to what you will see, what you will experience. You are reaching out now, reaching and seeing your arms, outstretched, tools of endless possibility. There is no limit to what you will do with them; you will do everything. You will do everything and see everything and be everything, for time has no power over you, no beginning and no end. Only now, and now forever.