I feel intensely aware of the material these days. The sheer physicality of life in all its shapes and forms catches at my eye and I am continually astounded that we exist. At this moment, cumulus clouds drift just beyond my window and there is such shape in them, like cotton candy with the puffs and the peaks and the shadows, and I see God’s hands cupping the contour like the fingers on Belshazzar’s wall.
The curvature of my daughter’s head presses deeply at my breast; my eyes of two dimensions perceive her three dimensional reality. Such raw material, this.
We are skin and and bones and hair and we move and we live and we have our being.
Perhaps then, this is the surprisingly positive affect of a world full of screens. Accustomed to flat images, our eyes may continually be caught unawares by the shapes of real life. We might see, and marvel. We might behold, and worship.