Lunar Eclipse: Blink, and It’s Over.

Blink.

Last night the winter solstice coincided with a lunar eclipse. The first response to come out of my mouth when asked if I would stay up to see it was, why bother? A million pictures better than anything I could ever see on my own were sure to pop up the next day, so losing sleep just to say I saw it live seemed, well, pointless. Even so, I set my alarm, and at 2:31 am my cheek was pressed up against a window as I watched history unfold. Of all the emotions to experience, I felt something I haven’t felt for sometime now…

Fear.

The moon, an absolute that I take for granted, was cast in shadow by forces I couldn’t begin to understand. My problems, my neighborhood’s problems, my city’s, the state’s, the world’s, they all disappeared with the sunlight, their insignificance brighter to me in their absence than they ever were out in the open. Moment’s like these, when nature puts me firmly back in my place, remind me of my one and only fear: nonexistence. In the same time that it takes me to write this blog, I will cease to exist. Don’t believe me? Okay. Blink. If that seems familiar, it’s because it’s the first thing I asked you to do in this post. Yet even now, both blinks are a part of your past, no more so than the third time I’ll ask the same of you, even if you haven’t done it yet. The future is the past, we’ve all already slipped into nonexistence.

Us, those who loved us, the very memory of us, gone.

Still, I cling to the now that slips from my grasp, I claw at the present as though I might catch hold of it. If all I have are memories until I become one myself, I’ll be damned if I don’t fill them with as much love, friends, family, cooking, and writing as I can, while I can. So for those of you who missed the eclipse:

Blink.

See? It’s already a memory.

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The Paperback Book Massacre

Of all the arguments in defense of e-publishing, there’s one that’s been tossed about rather flippantly, namely that E-books are eco-friendly. It’s almost always mentioned as an aside, and so I’m not altogether surprised that I’ve only now caught wind of what is a shockingly offensive aspect to ‘traditional publishing.’ What does surprise me, however, is just how well this secret has been kept.

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A Love of Art Inspired

I remember when I first got an Ipod. I was a couple of years late in the game, which meant I had benefited from a slicker, fancier model than the first generation mp3 players. I enjoyed the device – it was trendy, practical, and well, cool – for all of about two weeks. The sad truth is that I’m woefully lacking when it comes to musical savviness, my familiarity being limited to The Beatles, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Phillip Glass, with a nostalgic affinity for 90’s alternative rock. That’s it. Hardly enough to capitalize on a device designed to hold, manage, and ultimately glorify a love for music. Well, readers, guess what? Our Ipod has come, and no, it isn’t the Ipad.

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