L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

Stare Down

June 6, 2007 on 5:12 pm | In General Musing |

Tick tick tick. It seemed endless. Surely an hour had passed? A year? Well, maybe ten minutes.

It was an acting class exercise: Sit knee-to-knee with a partner and look at his or her face; observe everything; just keep looking. And of course your partner is looking back. You go through and entire constellation of feelings doing this. Feeling invaded, invasive; embarrassed, impertenent; suspicious, accepting; bored, fascinated. In the end, it was profoundly moving. This is something we never do: simply look at another person deeply. The last time I can recall doing this, it was the face of my infant son.

My partner was a young girl, 17. Her face was smooth and untouched by experiences that might give it character and interest. How much was there to see? And what was she seeing? Was I making stupid faces? Did I look ancient to her? She seemed uneasy at first, clearly trying not to giggle or look away. As the moments ticked slowly by, she became calm and still I could sense her relax and come to trust me, invite me in. I loved her for letting me in, for giving me the gift of simply gazing at her young face. I imagined her as a little girl, hair in flyaway braids; as a baby, eyes nearly disappearing into happy creases above fat cheeks; as an old woman with a lifetime of memories etched into her face. And I could see her seeing me, seeing me. All the little flaws I fret over looking at my own face in the mirror faded away into meaninglessness.

The class is nearly over and I will probably never see her again, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget her gently slanting eyes, her slightly lopsided chin. I have never shared a long, free look like that before. Just to look at a face for ten minutes? What a thought! These days we hardly dare look at another face for ten seconds. Whole conversations can happen without even registering the physical person connected to the voice. Anything much more than a fleeting glance might be construed as invasive. What are you looking at?

Who was last person you spoke to when you were out and about today. What color were his eyes? Hair? Did she look happy? Distracted? Glad to see you?

I see people walking through the checkout line, through the mall, through life with cell phones in their ears, talking to people who aren’t there. Living their lives at a remove. Ten minutes showed me how little time I spend here seeing you. I hope it’s not the last time in my life I get such a gift.

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