I’m obsessed with context. Saw your image yesterday and read your words, and all I could think of was “what if this woman were the one who could actually see?”. I know, having all of humanity stacked up against you makes it pretty much impossible to be considered the norm for seeing correctly. And what does that even mean, ‘the norm’, besides being a product of specific set of circumstances. All I remember being young was trying to understand why, trying to turn things around, trying not to judge, and slowly realising that everyone can only look through their own eye anyway. I guess realising the inevitability of one’s own context is the most I could hope for. It makes me wish I could see like the woman in the image, constantly dependent on others to interpret, something we all seem to shun, her act of seeing and seeking context being so much more. So much richer than mine, petty, arrogant, rusted and willing only to believe my own.