create our experience of reality," I explain as I pace the front of the room. "Illusions can be visual, auditory,

students are watching, some scribbling

cognitive shortcuts and heuristics to process the world around us, sometimes leading to illusions. Take the Müller-Lyer or Po

tch and smile. Thirty

n can cause the brain to invent input, resulting in illusions. Cognitive biases like confirmation bias also play a role, causing us to interpret ambiguous data in a way that s

s subjective and complex. Our brains can tric

trousers and a black turtleneck, effortless

oes the brain actually re

periencing illusions. It processes sensory input using various cognitive sho

eality. Context, attention, and expectations can all affect how we perceive something. That's how illusions occur

sult from ambiguity. When an image can be seen in more than one way, the brain switches b

Seeing only what we want to see is a cognitive bias rooted in confirmation bias and motivated

the exercise from last class." I gesture at two girls seated apart

s silent. I o

g her partner. "You're anxious..

of illusion, times when you saw what you wanted to see, not what was real. Make it beautiful. Ar

s dis

student interrupts. "Have you ever ex

. "But I broke through it." I turn b

_

ng lunch with Cyp at the

he asks, cutting

asta. "Amazing. We explored ill

more,"

he lesson, enjoying h

he says when I'm done.

f meatball, savoring the fla

n paperwork. Ronan's off to Bar

. Barcelona soun

"You just got back from Orleans.

cky subject with family. "It went

ates. Zoe is probably ki

" the wai

ry ice cream, and a mocha latte to-go. I ne

, then gives me a teasing lo

worry. I work

, sipping

n us is comfortabl

thinking about

looking directly at me... but somehow through me. I glance behind,

she wh

ard, violently. I gas

see that?" I stam

m blur, like a dream

ard, alarmed.

ground. Five things I can see, fou

s voice cuts t

e's been c

'm brea

" she asks

voice. I take a huge bite of

or now. But I fee

st tired," I

an you drop me at my place

l hand on my cheek. I try n

," he says. "Get s

g. He got an apartment in Harlem

m distant. But my mind is still with

The day was good... until it wasn't. I feel sick, nauseated wi

ater across the floor to my ro

. I used to tell her everything. We drifted,

and take a dee

nce. Twice.

pick

ne," s

per, tears prickl

remember, with a jolt, that I no l

u?" I stammer, heat

mething. If it's not urgent, can

focus on the background-voic

ng," I reply, trying to keep my voice

talk in t

n hear her smile, and it unravels me

, Mom," I

enc

I to clip your wings? To ask you to stay, to hold you back from where your spirit lon

the line

ld it in. I

and raw. There's a void in my chest, a gaping emptiness I don't know how to carry. All my

ide me. The bedside lamp rattles, but I

ight decision. I hope I am

just feel empty.