Weird how disorienting it can be to see something in isolation which one is used to seeing in a certain context.
The cover of the great William Gass's new novel Middle C presented such a conundrum for me. There's a depiction of a single piano key.
But, for a few minutes, I couldn't see it. What is this object, I thought.
And then I saw it. And realized it was all about context.
Like seeing a person you only know as the person in the uniform (at insert place of employment) someplace else.