She showed by example. By actually demonstrating the layers of reality. She moved her hand through it like a spatula through thick paint, layers of paint. She revealed 20 dimensions. From what she could see, ( here again the paradox, since sight is a loaded term for many reasons I will return to) different objects in the world presented degrees of frequency. She was trying to explain it to her lover. Different objects in this world also existed in other dimensions— and in some cases they looked altered, or stronger, or took on different appearances. Someone in the room told her that there were 48 dimensions. She was relatively new to this.
Take the Mona Lisa for example. She peered into the murky layers her hand now revealed in front of her. She could see the Mona Lisa, the painting floating in the space in front of her, and as she angled her sight downwards she could see the Mona Lisa ‘change’. It looked denser, thicker, blacker, not like a photocopier, but like someone’s desire in blood on canvas. The woman was beautiful yes, but dangerous. The painting no longer seemed like a painting–it wasn’t that it now seemed like a moving picture, but that the painting in this murky dimension now stood in place of something else, it was hiding something else.