Taking Apart A Well-Oiled Machine

Yesterday I visited the optometrist. After gazing through a series of high-tech binoculars, stereoscopes. monocles and spectacles I was rather ruefully informed that I was 'in biiiig trouble'. It seems that i've been in need of specs for some time now (15 or so years, by the doc's estimation) and have been forcing my eyes to focus, the equivalent of spending your waking life with your fists tightly clenched.

When I was finally fitted with lenses of the proper perscription I felt a sense of relaxation and relief that I had no earthly idea I was missing. It was as if someone had loosened a screw in the center of my forehead.

Interesting, right? But what's the relevance, you ask. Well, ( and bear with me; this might be kind of a stretch)- it's all about ways of seeing. I've been focusing, literally and figuratively, on one level for so long that I've lost touch with other...planes? possibilities? And while my 'style' has most certainly evolved over the years, I fear that my thinking about my artwork hasn't.