I Beam

Anybody who knows me knows that I am all about the EYEBEAMS.

The single best thing I have KNOWLEDGE of. They are an ocular obsession of mine. The conception of visual reciprocation achieved by the exchange of eyebeams. This is actual SCIENCE. Renaissance biology in corporeal motion. Fiery darts that pass through the eyes and hit the object of one's desire. Eyebeam emissions that are shot from the soul and pierce the reflecting target. Venus, Adonis, and wide-eyed sparks.

Then someone told me about the science of blinking.

If a person is attracted to another, they blink more often. Hence the fluttering of eyelashes. Looking into someone's eyes, with real connection, with a steady gaze, exposes one's ocular orbs (and, arguably, one's heart...) to the elements. Therefore increased blinking is necessary: to keep eyejuice flowing and to give an alluring glaze. When this someone told me this, I blinked too much, became too aware of eyejuice, and almost succumbed to his over-active flickering eyelids. I held myself back and struggled to resist the science. Damn his eyes!

[Parenthetically, this makes me think of the girl in Indiana Jones, who sits in class and stares at the dreamy Indy-in-Teacher-Guise, slowly blinking, with the words 'LOVE' and 'YOU' written on her eye-lids. A perfect moment in film - disturbing, frivolous, beautiful, true]

But surely blinking science contradicts eyebeam science...

If eyebeams are shot from love-struck eyes, then blinking would hinder and disrupt this process. The science of amorous eyes is a complex one. However, perhaps eyebeams are stronger than the thin tissue of eyelids. They come from within, from the thick-tissued aorta, and are powerful enough to penetrate the eyes and heart of another being. Mere blinks cannot halt or offset their path. They will always hit the target they are aimed toward, as this is determined by the heart and is not subject to direction-distorting blinks. Blinking serves to fan the flames of the fiery darts, making them blaze all the brighter and strike all the hotter.

These two concepts are perfectly combined in a myth of an icon. An icon of the Chelsea Hotel, who inspired a party, lived fast, died young, loved too much. It was her big eyes that were to blame... a speeding Edie Sedgwick was said to have set her room on fire while gluing on her thick false eyelashes by candlelight.

She flamed, framed in mascara.