Inside a portrait gallery, or a collection of prints, you can observe that many Grand Masters painted their subjects with one dominant eye. One is fixed on the artist, and your attention cleaves naturally to the dominant eye. Like a character with an eye-patch in a movie, or even just one side of a face filmed in shadow. You may feel subconsciously more comfortable looking into the left eye that is looking back at you. Without knowing the exact reasons you may not even like the subjects that are right-eye dominant, because they seem colder and more challenging. This happens between people. What is seen in someone's left eye is warmer and more emotional than the right, and often more vulnerable. "Eye diving" is when you gaze into a lover's left eye with your eye, and feel a sensation like falling into a lake. The soul looks through one eye, only, and the face is a facade. On a BAFTA award the right eye is missing. From the front, as the face of an entity, the left eye is watching. Yet it is shaped like a mask, unarguably part of what acting is all about. Look through it, as a mask, and the position is reversed. The view through your left eye is blocked, and only the body sees its audience. The soul can hide!
These days it is safer to look at the pavement than a strangers face. The challenge of "what are you looking at" can be a woefully quick debate. You can get into a lot of trouble looking into a canine football hooligan's left eye, in a drunken bar, because such vulnerable neurosis is easily offended after too many beers. You instinctively search out the left eye of a friend. If chance dictates that you lock sight with someone you judge to be dangerous, it is conceivable that your right eyes will bump harmlessly off each other without incident. This could happen automatically. You could test that for yourself, but be careful. The right eye may be colder, but it doesn't signify that people who are right-eye dominant are bad. My left eye is clinically weaker than the right, thus I am right eye dominant, myself, and probably perceived as being tougher than I actually am!
It has been said "the eye is the window of the soul". Some people appear to be younger in their eyes than others, regardless of their physical age. The eyes of an infant in a push-chair may have older eyes than its parents. This indicated to me a system of cyclic re-incarnation. In our many existences we keep meeting the same friends and marrying the same lovers. In order to move to the next level, we must overcome the ultimate challenge in our lives. In a traditionally Buddhist principal, we must break our cycle.
My thoughts then progressed to global cycles of destruction, and creation. Old souls may have been left a legacy more useful than an appendix. Are supernatural abilities remnants of long-dead civilisations? I wondered if they are still within people with 'advanced brains' because I sensed the existence of a 'grid'. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. It felt military, so I considered robots calculating distance under the auspice of a computer-generated matrix. The human body is an organic machine, mysteriously sub-controlled by a brain full of unknown capabilities. Could there be a throw-back that judges logistics with a subliminal grid? Did it help soldiers, without their knowledge? Or famous sportsmen that do, but keep its secret?
"If thine right eye offends thee pluck it out" leaves the offended man only able to see with his left eye, thus metaphorically not with his body. Let us consider it the other way a round. The machine in the movie 'The Terminator' (1984) cut out its left eye to reveal the lens of a futuristic camera. It saw the terrain ahead overlaid by its central processor with a red grid. I have taken out my left eye myself via wearing contacts lenses with a strong prescription. I learnt that if the soul cannot see, the machine takes over. In 1990 I met a man on a ward who also wore contact lenses. There is a difference between recalling twisted perception, and the memory of an undeniable fact: this man had one red-tinted contact lens in his left eye, and he was a student nurse.
'Grids' maybe balanced by the ability to see 'bubbles'. Everything has its opposite. I have only ever seen the latter once, in a dream; thousands of tiny bubbles bouncing around the periphery of sight that may guide a man in much the same instinctive way as a grid. An enquiry of "do you see bubbles or grids?" was the first thing a man once said to me, twenty years ago. After winning a game of pool in a public house with the land-lord, a few weeks later, I asked him the same question. He replied 'bubbles'. I think grids are inherent and bubbles are borrowed, just another side-affect of drug use. It would have become more prevalent with time, but a sane person would want neither.