Sunday 4 January 2009

In the eye.

People don't look one another in the eye. It's not just me, I'm sure. They shy away from the intensity of that contact. For good reason, I guess. You can give so much away in your eyes - things you aren't ready to let out into the world. Everyone is hiding so much of themselves. Your eyes make you vulnerable to interrogation. Interpretation. That's why it's so damn sexy when someone actually LOOKS you in the eyes. The barriers have to come down, and you submit yourself to their analysis of you. But if they're looking at you, too, then you're doing the same thing. So much goes between you in so little time. It's like falling. Terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. Tearing yourself away is impossible but necessary - until you can find the freedom to just let go, anyway.

Everyone should watch The Hours. It's the second time I've watched it - I loved it the first time but haven't watched it again because it affected me badly. Was watching it at a bad moment, then, but I appear to have reached a point when such thinking is necessary. It's beautiful. David bought it me for Christmas, and I found Mrs Dalloway in a cheap bookshop the other day. I haven't read it for ages, but I will do. Woolf will complement the Winterson I've been reading, anyway. Must buy Orlando, too, I've not read that for ages. I've always thought it was possibly the most interesting thing Woolf wrote. I need to watch it again with a pen (not crochet) in my hand and take the quotable quotes down. 'Looking this life in the face and knowing it for what it is' was one I wanted to remember. There were more, they might come back to me.

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