when I was too young to go to school, but old enough to question God, I would lay upside-down, tummy-up on the family couch, looking around at everything the wrong way. I would be entertained by what I imagined life would be like if we lived in that direction, with up-side down dimensions.

I became oddly curious about the corners of the living room ceiling. It seemed that, especially while upside-down, if I stared at the corners long enough, they would invert their direction!

Instead of pointing out and away from me, the corners appeared to be coming into the room toward me.

This fascinating ability to switch between images, controlling what my eyes see as real, was my first taste of what I call ‘super pixels.’
A superpixel is word I use to describe a pixel, or chunk of data, that contributes to two or more images at the same time.

In this case, it was one simple corner of the room, made up of the visual data my brain was receiving. Yet, at any given moment, I could control the way my mind modelled my environment — oscillating between two very real, yet opposite-looking corners of the room.

As I sift through memories, it seems this odd childhood practise, likely born out of boredom, would serve as the beginning of my inquiry into perception.