At midnight on a moonless, cloudless night, I turn off all the lights in my house and use a flashlight to guide my way to the middle of an empty field. Then I turn off the flashlight, lie on my back and stare straight up at the sky. I am alone, there is no evidence of human existence. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I become vaguely aware of a distant hillside and an arboreal phantom in the blue-black void. But I am drawn like a magnet to the heavens. I reach out my hand and feel like a giant next to the tiny stars. Then watch the distant stars getting smaller and dimmer as they recede into the vastness of space, and suddenly feel very small. The twinkling stars make the heavens seem like a lovely, sensitive living thing, and it's strangely comforting to lie here alone in what feels like the womb of the universe. I contemplate the infinite possibilities of time and space, and dream about my next life, when this fetal existence ends....
1 comment:
Lovely painting. Did you see the stars on that cold night late last week? I've never seen them so close.
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