I read this week about how the satellite that circles Mars and maps Barsoomian wastes lost touch with Earth at last, a decade after its two-year mission began. I love the happy-ending space science, when things Hubble along grandly despite obstacles, wear and tear. So much of the day to day seems like science fiction tonight. I watched a music video of a friend's song which someone had created with the freeware animation program Blender. The resulting video was 3 and a half minutes of professional animation, featuring plot, great characters, and lots of cool little design touches. It makes me feel good, somehow, to know that someone did that at home (*do try this at home, children, it's harmless fun not limited to professionals*).
I lift my teleidoscope up to the mirror (still sporting its price tag, $ .92), and render myself prismatic. I wonder, sometimes, about the many roles and faces that people wear and play. A lot of folks feel a division--wife, mother, father, son, boss, employee, friend, acquaintance. I am not so much that way. I think I accept that I am so many things, and yet one thing, and yet nothing at all, and yet, in a way, almost everything I know.
We watched the public television special about Annie Oakley the other night,and I mused about how much we create our own mythos. I think that sometimes the goal is not to avoid such creations--although that has a certain zen appeal--but to create the right mythos. An authentic story, more than a "happy ending", may make the best life novel--and yet happiness can be awfully authentic, too, and the dualism between "real" and "faux" need not break down on happiness/unhappiness lines.
I like the way I constantly map ideas, like those google things in which one pushed the arrow, and the map shifts. So many contours we bear and share--the inevitable fractal of living. I wish I may, I wish I might, explore another surface tonight.