How little we, as human beings, grasp the depth and complexity of reality.
I look at the colour grey: pure grey, the exact middle between black and white. On a monitor, it is only a fill, a point in a transition, a calculated balance of light.
But then I begin to think of pure grey outside, on a wall, under real light. Suddenly it becomes something entirely different. It is no longer a simple colour. It is an event, a presence, a surface, a condition. It belongs to the wall, to the air, to the hour of the day, to my own perception.
The grey itself almost disappears, and what remains is the experience of it: the context surrounding it, the phenomenon of its appearing to me.
In that moment, I understand that even the simplest thing is immeasurably deeper than it seems.
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