this quote has been circling my mind ever since i left the airport...
it always crosses my mind that i´m going to die every time i´m on a plane, i´m always sarcastic about it because i don´t usually get scared, so i think, "what if this is the airplane that´s going to fall, even if everyone tells you it´s the safest way to travel?", or what if it´s my turn or whatever..
i find comfort knowing that if i do die, my life has been awesome, even if some parts haven´t been all that much, i couldn´t really complain, i feel happy... anyways, way too much melodrama for this blog and for my arrival at my always favorite destination..
so i´ll leave the quote i was talking about in the beginning, it ties into flying in the sky and feeling so small among the immensity of space/time, and at the same time feeling contained in our ever expanding universe.
poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars- mere globs of gas atoms. nothing is "mere". i too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. but do i see less or more? the vastness of the heavens streches my imagination- stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. a vast pattern- of which i am part- perhaps my stuff was belched from some forgotten star, as one is belching there. or see them with the greater eye of palomar, rushing apart from some common starting point when they were perhaps all together. what is the pattern, or the meaning or the why? it does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. for far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined! why do the poets of the present not speak of it? what men are poets who can speak of jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia be silent?
i love flying.
this is what came along with my ears (gracias a dea & a alex por el regalo pre-cumpleaños.)