One day when I was drawing a young girl
I suddenly noticed that the only thing that was alive was her gaze.
One does want to sculpt a living person, but what makes him alive is without a doubt his gaze.
The heads from the New Hebrides are true, are more than true, because they have a gaze.
I saw a man's eyes follow a woman,
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his anima,
his female self.

and noticed that she resembled him--
One sees it as if it were disappearing, coming into view again, disappearing, coming into view again-- that's to say, it really always is between being and not being. 
Not the imitation of eyes, but really and truly a gaze.

In fact, one never copies anything but the vision that remains of it at each moment, the image that becomes conscious.

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