Well, on the afternoon of August 12, 2014, (or whenever it was) I thought this was a thing.
Your eyes, they can play tricks.
Perception is fluid, and as largely emotive, subjective beings, our state of mind and cognitive GPS can literally present the same image in quite unlike contexts depending on your mood and state of mental health.
We’ve all experienced this. We might stumble across a random assorting of objects into an approximate human face. In some cases, the resemblance is very clear and the majority of people would observe the resemblance. In many cases, it is ambiguous and might take quite a bit of time to align our mind with the image we are expected to recognize. The conscious effort to reframe that pile of rags into the face of Jesus is simply not a natural interpretation, and the magical transfiguration is up for debate.
August 12, 2014, is a blank spot in my memory, as it should be with most sane people. I have no idea what went on that day, but through the clever manipulation of historical digital sleuthing, I discovered I was at work that fine Summer Tuesday afternoon. I was wage slaving, not snapping photographs out my rear balcony door. The time stamp must have been wrong. It’s the only explanation, which is no surprise as I tended to let my old school electrical appliances fall out of temporal sync all the time. This image was most likely captured the weekend before or after August 12…or the years before or after.
Looking at the image’s lackluster idea of a face, it appears my mind was out of sync as well.
Or was it?
I saw an evil being in the pine shrubbery separating my apartment from the neighboring house. At the time, his warbling image danced in the green pine needles that were buffeted by strong winds that warm August day. I am not prone to outlandish imaginary leaps of logic, so I really do believe that when this was taken, my visual mind did see a face in those bushes. So much so that I felt it necessary to film the malevolent mirage hidden in the leaves, which 7 years later, looks like leaves in the wind, nothing more. At least to the present incarnation of my mind.
To be honest, the idea of this peculiar tendency to find faces hidden in the most innocuous scenery struck me as a subject the other day when I read a Quora post about Satan’s face on 9/11. I thought of this old personal “encounter” with an evil face since my photographic evidence has been sitting on an external hard drive for years. My recollection was that it was eerie. Vividly so.
Boy, was I disappointed when I viewed the files. There was nothing remotely spooky about the old video and images. My anticipation fell flat on its face. It was like taking an eager bite of food you’re expecting to be delicious that instead it tastes like an unsalted piece of cardboard. But being the dutiful blogger, disappointment can be molded into prose if the situation is desperate.
So the narrative didn’t quite match my intended focus; fine then, I’ll go where it takes me. I’ll be a good sport.
I was hoping to be able to illustrate my own version of embedded demonic facial hell like many have pointed at from some 9/11 WTC footage.
The disguised facial traits in this photo are strikingly distinctive and easily interpreted similarly by a range of people, so its intrigue is accessible and easily springs from the realm of the enigmatic.
As I remembered it, the wicked imagery of the face in the shrubbery was just as scarily visible. Unfortunately, the mind’s eye can alter dramatically in the span of 7 years. In which case, you’re left with a discarded photograph which once resembled something entirely sinister. The face I saw on that hot, windy afternoon existed solely for me, that moment. The hot Santa Ana winds, demonic in their own right, provided the foreboding environment best suited to other-worldly beings manifesting from scorching climates in the camouflage of everyday minutiae.
Or perhaps it’s not so simple. I had a more unsettling notion.
Although I don’t see a face now, this does not mean there is not a face there. Perhaps my perceptions evolved out of the clarity I possessed that moment, a clarity which allowed me to see the face’s true nature as I straddled a dimensional brink that offered me a horrible vision beyond. In that minute, 7 years ago, was I keenly in tune with a dimensional plane that allowed me to see a face that lurks behind our mind’s eye? I was afforded a rare glimpse, a one-in-a-lifetime congregation of sensory phenomena that allowed me to peer at the face. That portal is lost and with it my vision of the face. Now I see what everyone else sees in the limited drabness of our humanly sight.
A windswept bush.