Buried Treasure and Perception
|Li Po, translation by Arthur Cooper|
Seth Apter's annual buried treasure is here. And I'm returning to a post I did on Jan 31, 2009 while I was living in Japan. At the time, I was working as an ESL Teacher and fitting art in when I could. I picked up Keri Smith's projects which I could do anywhere, anytime.
Keri Smith's 100 ideas/100 days: Challenge No. 5: Rewrite a poem that I respond to. I chose Li Po's "Quiet Night Thoughts" poem. I love his poetry and first discovered Li Po when I read an Ezra Pound translation.
For this challenge, I went to a cafe. A 25 minute walk got me to Cour Plus.
There sign board lists the cakes available for the day. Chestnut cake, Apple tart a la mode, or Kabocha pumpkin cheesecake.
I spent the afternoon with tea and cake and writing the poem below inspired by Li Po's Quiet Night Thoughts.
The sun's rays gently wake me from my dream.
The sounds outside my window remind me how far away I am from you.
I close my eyes once more and dream of home.
|art journal page, visual perception|
This past week I studied vision and perception in Cousera's Understanding the Brain course. Dr. Mason is adept at teaching such detailed and dense material in a way that is easy to comprehend and enjoyable to learn. I can tell she loves what she teaches.
It so happens that the journal prompt for ayalj was "eyes" which fit perfectly with what I was studying. I am amazed at how intricate the process of seeing and then understanding what we see is and it all happens in less than a second. The colors enter our eyes and travel a maze where they are translated, processed and as they travel to the back of our brain to become sight.
The journal page is a collage of some of the parts that make up the maze in our vision. "The visual areas of the brain are at the back of the brain. Visual information can guide actions within one-fifth of a second, but it takes about half a second for us to see an object consciously." (The Human Brain Book, by Rita Carter)
Below is a video with some fun visual illusions.
Joining sunday sketches and a year in the life of an art journal