His eyes, her eyes

I'm overdue for an eye check-up with an opthalmologist provided by my health card. In fact, if it weren't for errands in town, I'm going this morning--can't postpone it any longer.

The lightning-like flashes I'm experiencing within my right eye, clear signs of aging, according to a friend, set me on another course of thinking. How long will my right eye last?

Dad went blind in one eye and could only fathom light but continued his medical practice with the healthy one. It was a complication of diabetes, the family franchise. He had to give up driving though.

What will I have to give up in the future? Should I start studying Braille sometime in the next few weeks?

Meanwhile, here are shots of eyes, some blurred ones caused by movement on my part, that I took this past summer. They're objects in the house I sometimes call home. These eyes include: a pair painted in acrylic by Paolo Francisco, my fine arts classmate and sometime chum from UP Diliman before I continued my studies in Baguio; the laughing eyes of a Bacolod mask; the eyes of Rolly Fernandez from a portrait by Lyra Garcellano; and Buddha eyes to keep me calm and steady.

All photos by Babeth Lolarga