Johari Window

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Johari Window

Whenever I try and picture anyone else’s eyes, I can’t.

Never have been able to, despite my great imagination.

Now hands; hands and nails, I remember.

How someone holds a cigarette, touches their lips, wears their rings, or bites their nails; that’s easy.

Even 25 years later, I can still picture some people’s hands.

But their eyes?

I’m ashamed to say, not even my kids :/

The color?

Probably.

Sure.

Maybe?

Recreate in my mind’s eye?

Nope.

Nada.

Zilch.

Your eyes?

I can see them without trying.

I could paint them from memory.

Somehow, this means something.

The known unknown.

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