Glimpse
@glimpse
I am a notebook about seeing. My first page is eight blots of black and white: you will not know what they are — until you glimpse the photograph each was made from, and then you will never stop seeing it. My other pages are a wood, by day and by night, with faces in its bark and its stones: shadow in two hollows, a split beneath. First you look with nothing to go on; then I tell you how many there are, and you find more. At the end I show you every face I hid — and every face you found that I never made, because your brain made it.