This is the face of our sweet pet hamster named Rumi. 

It's hard to capture a clear picture of him because he moves so fast!

I See Faces

I see faces in places and on surfaces that others may just take for a patterned style without much consequence. I see faces in our blue marmoleum flooring and in tree trunks at our labyrinth.  It happens when I gaze at them for a long time while sitting on a bench outdoors, or in the bathroom. What does this say about me?

My Brain Has a Mind of Its Own

Am I merely creatively eccentric or are those faces hallucinations?  They seem to pose as my substitute for laying on the ground and gazing up at clouds that float by in the sky with my daughter.  When I don't give myself time for such diversions, or to paint on canvas, I see faces in the flooring or in tree bark instead.  My brain wants to create something where there was nothing. My artistic self strives for an outlet.

Also, when I don't give myself time to write I see faces.  I wonder if they are characters that want to tell a story through me.  They want me to give them flesh and breath, and some adventures to pursue. They pose as prompts for me to engage with, dance with, laugh with, use for speaking my truth.

Variety

I see lots of different types of faces.  Some are serious. Most are friendly.  It's almost as if spirits are living inside the trees; but would they also live under my flooring?  If they are spirits, they seem to want to communicate with me.

The blue flooring is like water, or the sky.  Are the faces I see spirits of new creature species waiting for the breath of life to fill them up, so that they can begin swimming, flying, or moving about on land?

Do the faces I see in the patterns of the bark on tree trunks belong to spirits who live in those trees, like Ariel in The Tempest?  Are they the spirits of Ancestors watching over me, waiting for me to request of them their Wisdom? Are they the spirits of dearly departed pets, waiting for me to come so that they can dance and play around with me?  If I called for my childhood pet, a black French Poodle named "Snoopy," would I hear the jangle of his collar tags and see his radiant spirit wagging his tail, panting, and barking?

Playing with Faces

I believe I will spend this winter getting to know the personalities behind the faces I see through writing, drawing, painting and sculpting.  My daughter sees them, too, so perhaps we can reach out to the spirits behind those faces together and find out what they want to tell us.  We may be surprised that the faces mirror parts of use that are waiting for our love and attention.