It wasn't a hole in the wall with someone peeking through, Scooby-style. It was a fully attached organ and part of the wall. I walked out when the class ended and noticed real eyes in all the paintings.
Then I reached the street, and I was still looking for eyes, and I found them. All in inconspicuous places - behind trees and signs and shingles, in the shade, away from the walkways, out of the sun. In my workplace and home and all the local businesses. At friends' houses. At your houses. Some were squinty and suspicious, some flirty and playful, some angry, some sad, some happy, some surprised.
Why hadn't I noticed all these eyes before I went to that hotel?