Just one look from my grandson and I can melt. Looking at, or being looked at lovingly, is thrilling.
Eyes have the light that I like to see every day. Life shines through these windows of the soul. Knowingly, I even eye myself in the mirror. How do I feel this morning? One look at my eyes and I can tell. I'm accustomed to myself and I try to not to hide too much.
This morning, I spent three hours at the coffee shop?!!? I had to push aside the twinge of guilt that I was feeling because for some reason, I thought I was piddling away a whole morning and not accomplishing anything. I just now got to thinking about that and realized that much was accomplished as my three artist friends and I shared our stories and emotions. I got to look into each pair of eyes and see something beautiful. The eye contact and the connection did my heart good. In addition to the eyes, their presence brought fulfillment. Without that kind of therapy, I am lacking what is important. Knowledge of myself and others.
What is it about eyes? I remember how my mom and my dad looked into my eyes when I was growing up. The love was unmistakeable. It was a good base for confidence. I felt important. I remember my children looking up into my eyes when they were little. Their innocent sweet love was indescribable. As grown-ups they still look into my eyes, although most often I only get their voices because of distance.
Eyes....they are just another part of body language. Body language and facial expression goes way beyond words. I was just thinking what it would be like if all we had was the written word and no one looked at anybody, or even spoke out loud. The richness of communication would go out the window and I, personally, would starve from lack of emotional stimulation.
Yesterday, I was painting a watercolor portrait of a guy who I had not met before. We were in a crowd. Others were painting, too, but not faces. He had a joyful response, knowing that someone thought him as worthy of a portrait. That was the fun of doing it. I looked at his face and then down as I put my brush to paper. I did this over and over until I had the likeness that I thought befit him. I was happy with it. I was happy to see that he was happy, too, and even happier when I signed it and handed to him for keeps. I am grateful for protrait painting. It has been a wonderful vehicle for me to touch base with people. I watch countenance change with the realization that there is special attention with eye to eye contact! I have gotten past the need for my art to reflect it all perfectly.
Ultimately there is one who gazes at us all day and all night. Our Father in heaven constantly looks into our eyes with love.
Psalm 17:8 gives a prayer: " Keep me as the apple of your eye: hide me in the shadow of your wings."
The phrase apple of my eye refers to something or someone that one cherishes above all others