I look at my T's feet a lot. I like his shoes. 
Most of the time I don't pay a whole lot of attention to where I'm looking. I'll space out on patterns when I dissociate though (I notice it afterwards). One time I spaced out on the faint lacy pattern of previous T's bra through her shirt. Oops 
__________________
'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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