There is wall at my grandparents’ house made of some kind of patterned concrete. It’s off-white but it isn’t marble. The way my grandmother described how it was made, it sounded pretty much like how resin is mixed these days. But the wall isn’t made of resin. It’s two stories high and about 18 feet wide so there’s no way it can be resin. It isn’t granolithic either. The floor of the house is made of granolithic so I know what granolithic is. The wall is something else. I’ve never seen a wall like that in any other house.
But the material with which the wall was constructed isn’t really the point. It’s the patterns on the wall. Most people saw swirls in red and varying shades of gray and beige. But, as children, my brother and I saw faces on that wall. One, in particular, was bald and had a very long, large nose.
We lived in that house for a year right before we moved to the suburb. By “we” I mean Speedy, the girls and myself. Sam and Alex could make out the faces too. And I have wondered, more than once, why some people could see the faces while most could not. In the same manner, the girls and I can make out faces on water stains on ceilings, for instance. Imagination too fertile?
A little while ago, I asked Speedy to look at the photo above. I asked him what he saw, he saw the flowers and the leaves, all right, and that was it. But I can see fairy-like images in that photo — three, in fact. And, on the left, two heads — or, rather, profiles of two heads. One has its mouth wide open and both have very long eye lashes.
An hour later, I asked Sam to look at the same photo. I asked her the same thing. She didn’t see fairies. She said there was a bunny — with whiskers — and, on the bottom right, a sad-looking kitty.
By the way, for a while, there was also a dragon in our garden.