words

I make a living through the caress, postulation, positioning, embrace, and fondling of words. But they are mere words. Paltry. Nothing. They never quite say it, do they? All words, however you jumble them, miss the mark, to some degree.

Has any pair of words ever said as much as a pair of eyes?

maybe the eyes don't have it

"Excuse me," he said . . . "but are you blind?"


"Yes, I am," she replied.


"That's an affliction I wouldn't mind," he said.


"Why?"


"We believe too much in what our eyes tell us," he said. "They draw us into enormous disappointments."

-- Robert Wilson, The Vanished Hands (2004)

Hmmm. I have to think about this one a bit. It reminds me of something the late Ray Charles once said. He claimed he would not want to regain his sight, lost as a child. Too many bad things to see. At first blush, that sounded like an awfully bleak take on life. But who am I to say? Seeing Ray Charles say this, on a late-night talk show many years ago, if I recall correctly, I did not think he was unhappy with his state. I don't know where I'm going with this. I was reading Wilson's novel, saw the quotation, and dog-eared the page because I thought the passage might be something to blog about. So here I am. What do I think? I can admit that I am easily one who "believe[s] too much in what our eyes tell us." Well, what is "too much" anyway? Sure, I'm an easy mark for the puppy-dog plea in the eyes (human or canine) or the smoldering come-on of lust's beckoning. ("Dad, don't make eye contact" my younger daughter would advise me regarding my being an easy target for panhandlers along the boulevards of Berlin or in the U-bahn). I can admit to readily taking up arms when I see the flint of battle in one's eyes. So be it. But don't any "disappointments" in those instances arise from the "too much" factor? If one really reads the eyes properly (i.e., accurately, without distraction, without static or interference), can eyes ever lie? Or am I foolishly naive to be asking such a question at the age of 61?