Why does everyone want to turn on the lights?

So many times it seems that when I'm carving it's when the day is moving on towards dusk - like I've acknowledged that all the everythings of the physical day to day world have been sufficiently acknowledged and I can set them aside for a while as I slip into the fluidity and timelessness of some assumed surface of wood...
I start to move within that momentless moment of carrying myself into the essence of senses I get, I see a spoon, I see movement...  The world moves on.
Many times, before I know it, it's dark - but not the darkness of not being able to see, but of a different sort of light...  The shadows of the curves upon the wood become alive within the light that is there- there is always light.
And then sometimes someone walks into that world and asks if I want the light on.
It's as if asking me to blink away a dream.  I don't want to blink; I can either try to keep my eyes open, or hold them closed.  The seeing within the moments with working with wood in those dusky not quite darknesses of not quite days is more like the ease of holding my eyes closed - I do not fight anything, I just rest there, but it's not anything being closed, but of everything being open.  And it's not a dream; it's me, and the fluidity of the spoon carries over into my existence just as much as my existence carries over into that fluidity...