SIGHT.
ophthalmoception.
***
I walk among the crowd, but I am not part of them. I walk like them. I spoke their words, but never did they see what I saw.
Sometimes they are shallow and choose to be blind to the beauty of this world. They wander without using their eyes to see what life is really about.
That's why I am the blessed one. For I see the things that ordinary people could not see...
Through the lens of my camera, that gives me a clearer view of this world.
I may not talk a lot, but through the shots that I take, I can speak thousands of words in a single frame—ordinary people cannot do that.
I sat quietly. The park sure is always filled with many people. I looked around and observed the place, adjusting the aperture as I decided which scene today will I look at differently.
Photography has given me the power of freedom to express my ideas without limiting myself. It is my therapy; it practically serves as a sense of sight.
I lifted the camera and placed it in front of my face—and suddenly, I started to see different colors. I started to see the beautiful smiling people, the sunlight that illuminates the park, and the rawness of the beauty of this world—I shifted the camera around, looking for something that would add meaning to a bigger picture of life itself—
And there she was.
She has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. That was the focal point, the eyes—and everything just followed.
The crowd, the place, everything was captured in a motion blur, and the subject in the photograph is now clear—it is that beautiful woman whose eyes emit brighter lights more than any strobe lights can.
The camera captured that beauty of hers. I was not sure how many photos I managed to take; I did not even bother to adjust the technicals to make sure the shots were good—I just kept taking pictures of her, afraid that I'd lose sight of her.
Then she stood up.
I lost my focus. I stopped taking pictures of the goddess sitting on the bench across from me. I let go of my camera, now using my naked eyes to stare at her, but nothing really changed. She's still beautiful.
I watched her as she took her things with her. I watched her when she grasped a white cane, leading her on her own way. I watched her as she frowned because it seemed like she was having a hard time.
She has the most beautiful eyes, but she cannot see.
I can see, but I do not have the most beautiful eyes.
I stood up, taking my camera with me. I walked towards her, taking slow but sure steps. I don't know, but something inside me was eager.
I felt that this girl, with the beautiful eyes, needs to see—in her way—how beautiful the world is...
Also, I knew she certainly needed to see how beautiful she was.
