When I was 10, I made a clay sculpture of a gorilla. The teacher asked me why it had no eyes. As I grew older, I looked back on my sculptures, none of them had eyes. The lack of eyes prevented me from seeing their souls. Without eyes, there was an air of mystery... and that gave them an almost godly presence. Their sockets remain empty, for fear that with eyes showing, would be revealed something too unremarkable to ever be beautiful.