It's amazing what clear sight can do to a person. I went so long without having the glasses I should've been prescribed. Then, when I had gotten them I went through middle school barely wearing them, I mean, Christ, I already had an enhaler and was bad at sports, did I need another thing to make me a geek. But then I got into high school and gathered my group of friends. We had every type of geek imaginable, band geek, science geek, art geek, anime geek. I was an art geek myself, or at least that was the main classification of my geek. So once I had realized this, I started wearing glasses, because they were rectangular frames and my hair was streaked with metallic blues and blinding reds, so I wasn't geeky, I was just one of those weird, interesting, quiet kids. I found that I was okay with that.
What I hadn't expected was that wearing glasses would open up a whole new world to me. I had assumed that my eyes weren't THAT bad, so EVERYONE just saw blurry green blobs when they looked at a tree. The second I started wearing those cheap plastic frames, though, I found myself easily distracted by the interplay of light and shadow filtering verdantly through each individual leaf, the beautiful contrast of dark wood silhouetted like twisting snakes against the green of the canopy and the occasional blue of sky peeking through. God, the world around me was beautiful. Wearing glasses I could actually see the street signs when I drove, but I would nearly get into accidents getting caught up staring at the subtle rays of gold flecked sunlight bursting from behind a shadowed cloud, hovering low on the blue horizon of the ocean peering between the buildings as I went down the main road to la jolla.
The other day, I was joking around with my mom. We took my glasses from my face and rested them on the speckled snout of our sleeping, old, family dog. Jenny's bluing, cataract filled eyes blinked open behind the lenses. Instead of shaking the glasses off like we'd expected, she slowly raised her head, glasses still perched easily on her face. She looked around like she was seeing our living room anew, awe and interest seeming to shine on her furry face. I found that I could easily relate.
What I hadn't expected was that wearing glasses would open up a whole new world to me. I had assumed that my eyes weren't THAT bad, so EVERYONE just saw blurry green blobs when they looked at a tree. The second I started wearing those cheap plastic frames, though, I found myself easily distracted by the interplay of light and shadow filtering verdantly through each individual leaf, the beautiful contrast of dark wood silhouetted like twisting snakes against the green of the canopy and the occasional blue of sky peeking through. God, the world around me was beautiful. Wearing glasses I could actually see the street signs when I drove, but I would nearly get into accidents getting caught up staring at the subtle rays of gold flecked sunlight bursting from behind a shadowed cloud, hovering low on the blue horizon of the ocean peering between the buildings as I went down the main road to la jolla.
The other day, I was joking around with my mom. We took my glasses from my face and rested them on the speckled snout of our sleeping, old, family dog. Jenny's bluing, cataract filled eyes blinked open behind the lenses. Instead of shaking the glasses off like we'd expected, she slowly raised her head, glasses still perched easily on her face. She looked around like she was seeing our living room anew, awe and interest seeming to shine on her furry face. I found that I could easily relate.
