on the mystery of faces

There are faces that are beautiful abysses.

Science thinks it has things figured out. That the effect of a human face has its cause in strictly biological -- reproductive -- function. Duck feathers and nonsense!

A friend has described me as (accused me of being?) "romantic and hallucinatory." That sounds about right.

So for me, the mystery of a face is an infinite symbolism, a true magic, and a suggestion of the impossible-possible.

The mystery of a face is like the texture, color, and ghostly presence of an untouchable and geographically dubious aurora borealis -- a swirling plasma of significant energy, a hue of the uncertain, an interweaving of magnetic sympathies.

The mystery of a particular face is a reason to persist against the darkening of time.