6. Inside Seeing – Lou Sullivan
“Close your eyes,” he said, “and tell me what you see!”
My six-year-old son, Lou is no stranger to quarantine. At one-year-old, he was diagnosed with a rare form of pediatric brain cancer. After four years in remission, Lou relapsed last spring and we spent much of last year cooped up in a hospital room, gloved, gowned and masked, so bored we were talking to the Purell dispensers. During the worst of it, when Lou could barely move and I couldn’t write a word, he came up with a game called ‘Inside Seeing’ that saved us both.
“Close your eyes,” he said, “and tell me what you see!” “Ugh, nothing?” “No, mama, really look. Inside!” We lay together in the hospital bed, closing our eyes until shapes and light flecks began to form behind our eyelids. “I see fireworks,” I said. “I see a monster,” Lou said, “but he’s actually nice.”
After our journeying, Lou would draw what he saw, and I scribbled down ideas, amazed that my bald six-year-old was now my personal shaman and writing coach. “What’s it called when stars make pictures?” “Constellations?” I guessed. “Yes! I see constellations. The lines are a jungle gym, and we’re going to climb all the way back home.”
A few months later, we did make it home. Lou’s condition is finally stable. Last month he joined his twin brother, West, back at school, only to have COVID-19 force us back to a way of life we know all too well. We’ve been playing a lot of ‘Inside Seeing’ to pass the time, and Lou thinks you should try it, too.
- Lou Sullivan (with his mom Alexa Wilding)
Prompt:
Okay, close your eyes. Maybe lie down so you’re cozy? A blanket is nice. Okay. What do you see? At first, it’s dark in there. But if you really look, you will start to see pictures. Maybe it’s a bear with claws, or an ice cream cone, or a memory. Like, cuddling your mom. Maybe it’s words, like LOVE or DANCING. Sometimes it’s just tickly lights. Whatever you see, write about it. Really explain it until it becomes a story. I like to draw what I see, too.
Alejandra Redondo
Location: Mexico City
About: This one was one of my favorites, it felt like meditating and letting myself go to any place I wanted to, like magic traveling.
Age: 30
Hojas volando, árboles, sus copas, el mar, tranquilo y ruidoso a la vez, solitario, una postal, yo caminando en la arena, mi mamá, el abrazo de Pablo, él a la orilla de la cama y yo de pie, la carretera con Sergio, mi sobrina, la risa de papá, yo atrás de un escenario a punto de entrar, saber que Pablo está en el público, la casita de la selva que cubre el comedor comunal, comer en una terraza, ir al teatro con mamá, yo en un avión sola en la fila de adelante, un gigante que se suena, árboles otra vez, el sonido de las hojas que ya cayeron.
No hay forma de relacionarlo, es mi forma de viajar en mi cerebro, las cosas que importan al final, las que vuelven a ti cuando necesitas una imagen, un lugar seguro.
Yo trepando una escalera muy delgada que no veo, como hecha de lianas, la mano de Pablo, saber que lo veo, no es una imagen pasada, ojalá sea futura, subir a la cima de todo, una montaña invisible, abajo el mar, eso es lo que veo.
Importan como tres cosas, como diez cosas, muy pocas cosas, importa la gente y sus ruidos, las sensaciones, los lugares de calma y emoción, no los éxitos, ni lo que llevabas puesto, ni lo que se dijo tanto como lo que se sintió.
Llamar imágenes, dejar la mente correr a lugares felices y entenderlo todo.
Anonymous
Day 6: Today’s prompt brought tears to my eyes, so tender and touching! One of my favorite quotes of all time is by the late Djibril Diop Mambety, a maverick Senegalese filmmaker: “À chaque fois que vous voulez voir la lumière, il faut fermer les yeux” [each time you want to see the light, you must close your eyes.”
Lou’s “Inside Seeing” game reminded me of Mambety, who, when children asked him “How does one make a film?” He would tell them to close their eyes, to look at the stars, and look into their hearts, and then to open their hearts, and then to open their eyes and see if the film they want to make is there, before their eyes. Let’s play: eyes closed, lights out.
“I’m flashing back to my childhood. I clearly see myself getting ready for my first day of school: October 1, 1954! There’s my mother preparing a special breakfast for me that includes one boiled egg, considered a treat at the time. But I am so excited and nervous to eat anything. Visibly proud, my mother is now helping me get dressed in my new clothes that were tailor-made in the Souk, including the official grey smock that every kid wears to school.
I put on my brand-new sandals, sling my shiny schoolbag on my shoulder and pronounce myself ready for a new life.
(In truth, I have rehearsed this gesture everyday for a week in preparation for that momentous event.) My mother is visibly nervous and keeps going back and forth fetching one thing or another that I might need for the day, while reciting a torrent of advice and prayers.
I am finally allowed to step out. My brother and a cousin, who are two years older, have volunteered to chaperone me to school, situated less than half a mile from our house. En route, they point out landmarks in case I got lost on the way back, trying as best as they can to assuage my fears, especially of some teacher whose reputation for being harsh and cruel was familiar to me from the stories that were circulated by older children. I now get a glimpse of my father, walking silently behind us, at a respectable distance. He seems to be there for moral support. I’m in a sort of daze, nodding politely in acquiescence (but, in truth, my mind is racing away, more absorbed by my own fear of the unknown), hardly listening to my brother and cousin’s chatter and advice.” I open my eyes, and there’s my little film.
Thank you Lou and your mom, for this wonderful prompt and for bringing out that inner child in me. I’m sure Mambety would have recognized both of you as budding filmmakers! Keeping on “seeing”!
Ben Ellenbecker
Location: Los Angeles, CA
About: 6-year-old Lou Sullivan's game, "Inside Seeing" was the inspiration for this song, called "Black Hole, Yellow Bird". Listening to Lou, I closed my eyes and simply wrote what I saw. Darkness at first, then a small yellow bird danced across my eyelids. In an instant, I struck a match and a red flash took me to the Pacific Coast Highway, driving with the windows down. Amazing what can happen inside of a black hole :) Thank you for co-creating this moment, Lou!
Age: 31
Erin Sidjak
Location: Vancouver, BC
About: This journal entry is about my fears. I'm a Teacher, Friend, Daughter, Sister just trying to make the most out of each day.
Age: 28
I see a trail not knowing where it’s going. With every step I’m wondering if I’m going in the right direction I keep moving away from what I know. My anxiety keeps growing. I stop looking back because I keep moving forward. I just keep my eyes open I keep seeing things I never knew I could have or things that I would want. With every step I gain strength to keep moving. The only way off the trail is to take it to the end where a decision has to be made. Do I stay on this trail? Or do I find a different trail? Life is like having your eyes shut and hoping you’re moving in the right direction and if not it just adds to the journey.
Jaclyn Chung
Location: Encinitas, CA
About: It was an invitation to orient through image in the mind. I was able to meditate for a a minute or two, and see these beautiful colors, shapes, and movements.
Age: 34
When I close my eyes
I see shadows of what was right before me,
Swaying palm trees beyond a glass window,
Against the backdrop of a milky sky.
The line separating the sky and the ocean is blurred.
The painter added water to the grey/white mixture.
Soon, my eyelid canvas becomes darker
Until two mountaintops pop up
One in each eye.
The jagged edges of the dark blue tops
Are covered with crisp, white snow.
Snowbird. Utah. Longing. We missed it.
As I linger,
The scene turns to colors
Dark blue fades to green and then orange.
There is swirling
Edges are dark
Swirling with yellow, like stars
I’m seeing the cosmos.
Swirling, shifting, orange and yellow, then purple
Blots of light dance, disappear.
Suddenly, vibrations of bright yellow burst out in waves to orange
Sun exploded.
Sari Monaco
Location: Home near Miami, FL
About: What I see when I close my eyes made me think of my ritual every morning as I open my eyes.
Age: 54
When I wake up in the morning before I open my eyes I say “thank you God out loud” to send vibrational energy spinning through my room, through my house and through the world. I think of all my loved ones and pray for them to be unharmed and be safe from random acts of violence. I pray for their happiness. I pray for them to stay connected to me.
My eyes are closed and I’m seeing sparkles and feathers and bursts of light on the inside of my eyelids. I push out any negative thoughts as they keep sneaking in and try to think of memories filled with only joy and laughing. I thank my deceased parents for everything they gave me and tell them I miss them and then I start my day.
Tasha Fu
Location: Washington, DC
About: I recently went through a breakup after being with a loving partner for over 5 years. This entry is about the vividness of being with someone else for the first time.
Age: 23
When I close my eyes, all I can see is your apartment. Is it indicative that I have spent a total of fourteen hours there, yet I can remember every feeling I had exactly?
Your apartment is always a bit messy, but not because you have a lot of stuff. There is a box of empty beer cans in the corner of your kitchen. The pans are always on the burners. I see you with the box of pancake mix asking if I want maple syrup. You’re from Vermont, so you have the real kind.
You say we can share a fork. We eat sitting on your gray couch and you adamantly tell me to stay away from the broken corner of it protected by blankets. Your table is covered by plants and you look at them with the same tenderness you look at me.
In the shower you pull me to you suddenly and startle me. I don’t even pretend I want to pull away to save myself. We are laying in your bed and you hold me gently and firmly and I am naked except for my old bright pink underwear and you don’t care that they aren’t shiny and new and sexy. You are the perfect temperature of warm and I toss and turn because my body somehow knows this is the only chance you will let me have to be this close to you. In the morning, I keep as still as I can as you hug my back to your front, because the moment you fully wake up, will it all be over? I have never been so afraid of something. You smile at me and pull me closer when you wake up. I do not dare ask what it means.
I get dressed in all of one minute and we share a bowl of Reese's Puffs. I have a box in my pantry now, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to open it. You ask if I want a goodbye kiss as I am leaving and you are showering and there is dirt on your bathroom floor from repotting one of your plants. And later you give me your navy blue UCONN shirt to wear while we budget and you ask if I am giving it back and now I wish I hadn’t. And then I am back at the start, half on top of you in bed for the first time, and I am stroking your beard with my fingers and looking at you and you are softly smiling at me like all is right in the world and now every time when I close my eyes that is all I can see.
Sophia Kenna
Location: London, England
About: I've always been scared to write, and I've found this initiative to be incredibly creatively freeing. This journal entry came from a craving for warmth, freedom and of having nothing to worry about.
Age: 22
Sky Banyes
Location: Paris
Age: 32
Dear friend,
Today was a beautiful challenge. All challenges are beautiful, I have come to realise.. because “stars shine brighter in the dark” and adversity brings revelation! So, I got comfy, tucked my toes under the cover (always love my feet warm and snuggly) and closed my eyes.
Darkness.
Ok, so this was expected – I had caringly been warned. I tried to ease myself into this.. taking some deep breaths, letting go of my expectations, exhaling my tension (I had again woken up with a painful neck – no doubt invigorated by self-induced stress) and practicing patience. Or, I should say, for all the former: “trying to”.
Still, darkness.
“I must see something! I must have something to write about!” The (further) self-induced pressure didn’t help (surprise, surprise!). I decided to let go a bit, get lost in my thoughts. I was deeply attracted to what Lou wrote “I see constellations. The lines are a jungle gym, and we’re going to climb all the way back home.” I’d read it thrice when reading the prompt. What a remarkable feeling, what an inspiring insight, what a heartwarming picture! I saw it unravel. And then it hit me. Maybe it’s not about what we see with the organs in our eye-sockets! Maybe it’s about what we see with the eyes of our soul. The scene played out in front of me: big bright stars, separated yet united by the gym ladders, expanding in all directions, leading all the way home. (Side thought: How brilliant to make a gym sound such fun!) A beautiful challenge! See? (I’m smiling now, I know you are too.) And so, my insight (quite literally! ) continued No matter what is, (or, is not) happening in the world outside, we can see it, experience it, look at it, internalize it, whichever way we want! For, in our lives (aka our mind) we are both director and spectator, with no constraints and all the liberty to create the experience – the life – we want. And do you know what this means? It means FUN! It means untense breathing, it means uncloudy skies. :)
Lou, you have transformed my jungle! You have brightened my darkness. Your gym was the most beautiful challenge! I am so grateful to everyone involved – who brought this into form. Thank you. From my constellation – and whatever the next beautiful challenge may be – to yours, know that I carry a little bit of Lou in my heart forever.