Rearticulation

I’m not sure if this looks like anything to other people, but it’s feeling more and more like the restaurant I used to visit most days in my late twenties.
When I was a little boy, I had a fantasy that I might one day recreate an image exactly how it is seen with the human eye. In my juvenile mind, this entailed painting a picture with the edges all blurred, because I felt that when you looked at something, only the point you were looking at was in sharp focus, and everything, from that point out, becomes gradually more and more out of focus. I felt if I accomplished this accurately, and people looked at this picture, they would be transformed somehow – it would be like the renaissance, when someone figured perspective out, and visual communication was never be the same again.
Now I think something similar, but slightly different. I think I don’t see anything in focus. I just see colours and lines and these are combined with temperature and smell and the other senses somehow. It is combined with all sorts of things, but essentially it is a blur of sensation, tinged with a bit of memory and a bit of expectation.