The Art of Uncovering What's Already There

See Differently

We’re taught to describe what we see: the red door, the blue sky, the glass of tea sweating on the windowsill.

But observation in writing isn’t about naming things—it’s about uncovering them.

Disconnect from seeing as you’ve been taught.
See from underneath, from cracked open, from over a neighbor’s fence or lying precariously in the center of a busy highway.
See strangely, nakedly, without the familiar codes.
See honestly—without sentiment.

Stare at the details until you see beneath the pigment.
Until the epidermis disintegrates.
Until the detail becomes more palpable than color.
See until what you describe is potent yet spare, whispering what has long gone unnoticed.

See until you hear the secrets.

✍️ Try this: Take one ordinary thing you encounter today—a gesture, a sound, a face—and look again. Then write what you see now.