NASA came about because humans got to a point where, even after much imagination, shall we say, they realized no one was coming to take them off this planet.
If you hold your finger out to the sky and point, your finger might be directly under Chris Hadfield - way, way, way out there. It amazes me that some little man could be hovering two hundred-seventy miles over me, turning over as though in a floating washing machine, with almost nothing between us but my ceiling, sky, and the hull of the space station. Even though I cannot see him, somehow this lack of things between us makes me feel eerily vulnerable and at peace at once.
I have faith in humanity. I think another thousand years is more than enough time. Maybe by that time not all of us will need to leave.
Before the red shirt got attention with the way he took this kind of picture, I attempted this myself. It took an hour or so for me to get my perfect shot - by chinning the camera button on the side of my phone. I had to press through the skin into the underside of chin, into my jawbone, to click the button. It was my way of saying "I can do it with what I got." I feel that the very manner in which a photo is constructed can be picked up by the person deciphering the image. Every angle, every line speaks. They would understand how important it was to me. In that very brief moment they would scan it with their eyes and feel it in their gut.
Gave me chills and made me happy to watch. Hopefully, as the world keeps turning, we learn to stop perverting the love of Death and Sadness, end wars and be happy. I know what you cynics are thinking: who do you think pays for their happiness? One day, it wont matter. Dont postpone joy.
Ok. I did it. I dont care what anyone says. This is the evolution of fun, and I love it and dance to it every single time - because **** you cynicism. Ive had enough of you.
*whisperingly* Wow... wow. Thank you so much for posting this. It makes me wonder if LSD really does make one hyper-aware of time. I remember holding "Therapeutic Putty" while past my peak. I was living a Salvador Dali painting, watching every strand of time pass between my fingers. And it looked just like this. I just sat there and accepted time. Time does not stop. It was a beautiful truth, and one that now I have more clarity because of your posting this.
If you hold your finger out to the sky and point, your finger might be directly under Chris Hadfield - way, way, way out there. It amazes me that some little man could be hovering two hundred-seventy miles over me, turning over as though in a floating washing machine, with almost nothing between us but my ceiling, sky, and the hull of the space station. Even though I cannot see him, somehow this lack of things between us makes me feel eerily vulnerable and at peace at once.
I have faith in humanity. I think another thousand years is more than enough time. Maybe by that time not all of us will need to leave.
"This is a nightmare... I'm in hell."
Slide.