Reality As Canvas

My mom used to buy paintings at garage sales. As a prolific artist, new canvas is expensive and the old art could be painted over, and the frame reused. Double win for a busy painter.

Looking straight on at a re-painted canvas there is no hint of the previous work. Deep, opaque hues and heavy brush strokes seem to be the whole story.

But, peripherally, something emerges. As I walk by the painting, the light between it and I changes and a glare is cast across the work. The colors become less relevant from this position. I can see the light outline of an underlying scene. One context superimposed over another.

I ponder for a moment how the existence of an underlying scene could seem so thoroughly hidden… Only to be revealed under a condition that enhanced the total canvas texture.

Could the dimension that comprises our reality (and even the ones that don’t) be similarly understood?


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