When I gaze at clouds, it seems that a brain switch flips and allows me to suddenly see dogs racing across the sky or sheep grazing in a field. The same thing happens when I doodle thousands of tiny ink lines on paper. When I stop and let my eyes wander around the random field, I often see a tree or an animal face emerging out of the chaos. Modern theories call this process a transfer from the left brain (logical) to the right (intuitive.) I call it fun.
Overturning one type of cognition for another keeps my mind nimble and able to create visual surprises. Renaissance artist Leonardo Da Vinci knew this when he instructed his students to stare at Florence’s dried mud walls, richly textured surfaces where they could perceive phantasmagorical images similar to the ones we see in clouds. He told his students to draw what they could see on the walls’ surfaces.
I love this perspective on life. It’s always possible to perceive something new and astounding by flipping a brain switch. When I showed a group of people my doodles, a woman asked me, “Why don’t you draw all the human faces that I’m seeing?”
“You see people?” I asked her with delight. “That’s great! Your vision is unique to you, so you get to draw what you see. I see trees and sometimes an animal face, so I draw them.”
Oddly enough, when I’m sitting at meetings in rooms with textured carpets, that’s when faces seem to peer at me from the floor. I often draw them: laughing gargoyles, snarling wolves, happy fat men, beautiful frogwomen.
When I drive across the desert, shimmering heat waves can appear to be large lakes, perhaps cool and refreshing.
I remain aware that these delightful visual anomalies are imaginary. As I indulge in their beauty and humor, the world seems to be performing just for me. I feel as though magic is available wherever I look.
