So back to the dancing leaves weaving across the surface of that tree. Like I mentioned earlier, what caught my eye was actually the shadow. Of course this wouldn’t have caught my eye without light in the equation. But would I have noticed the pattern without the shadow? In other words, those spaces in which light is absent?
(To be accurate, maybe I should say: those spaces in which light is in varying degrees of absence. Beautiful, beautiful translucency.)
If a space without light is supposedly like a black box, then I would venture to guess that a space with only light would be a pure white nebula enveloping me from every angle. Once again, just a figure of speech, since I don’t really know what that would be like.
Like how the addition of light gives objects form, I’d imagine that so, too, does the subtraction of light. As the nebula gets dimmer, it’s as if a dense fog is receding around me. Forms start to appear, hazy and indistinct and perhaps broken at first, but slowly coalescing into recognizable objects.
When that dimmed nebula gets broken up, though—that’s when things get really interesting. A new world of information makes itself known. If a line breaks the even surface on which the light is shining, I infer that something is blocking the light some distance away. If the line is crisp, then likely that object is close to the source of light and probably far from me. If the line is thick, the object is of sizable magnitude. If the line tapers at one end, perhaps this object sits on an angled plane, one end closer to me than the other.
And what if another shape comes into view, and it is a different shade than the line? Suddenly transparency comes into the equation. The source of this shadow somehow allows some light to pass through, but not all of it.
A third shape glides in. It comes to a rest when it intersects with the previous shape. The area they share is darker—an area of overlap, no doubt.
If I walk backwards, I’ll eventually collide with those objects. I let them settle before me. Suddenly, I am in the light picture, too. I am a little blob at the corner. As I continue my journey, I become a dark shape creeping over the image until the image itself disappears. I wonder how far back I need to go before I’ll reach the light?