Solitude can be both the doorway to invisibility and total immersion, singularity an make me small and in a universe of infinite size that is a comfort. Being the inconsequential tiny mouse living in the lion’s den is the ultimate defense against the power of the mighty, those oppressors that await in the wings to wreak havoc upon my soul.
Visibility and invisibility are two sides of the same coin, we see neither what is transparent nor what is constantly displayed in plain sight. Familiarity not only breeds contempt but can also camouflages the most obvious behind a veil of deceiving banality. What is more disguised than one more brightly uniformed soldier on a parade ground, a single rook in a cacophonous murder, the sardine darting frenetically hither and thither in a shoal.
I am a master of hiding in the open, become so clearly visible that I eventually merge with the surroundings, forget in my obviousness, one more head within a morass of blooms, a single pebble upon a rocky beach, perhaps alone bright and multi-faceted but amidst the endless multitude but a familial merging with so many others.
The path to anonymity is as much through constant and consistent presentation as dissimulation, the first observed the one most quickly forgot, the most ambiguous, even paradoxical, the soonest set aside.
Upon my way home today I found my eyes taken upwards to stare upon an eagle gliding effortlessly along parallel to the roadway but some twenty foot above my head. Passing motorists naturally looked at me quite quizzically, wondering why ever I should be staring into the wide blue yonder with such rapt attention.
My question to them and to you is, I know you see eagles, but do you witness eagles? Our eyes and ears take in so much, yet see and hear so little, witness and understand hardly anything at all. Time is of course the enemy of casual observation, life but a constant gyroscope feeding upon kinetic intensity. Solitude is inclined to give me time, endlessly, to focus, to witness, to wonder.