Damien Broderick wrote:
"It's a lovely and terrifying picture: enormous galaxies roll
themselves up out of dust at the dawn, the compressed mass at
their cores igniting into an infalling cascade of black holes,
the orbital surround of the entire central catastrophe *blazing*
with quasar ferocity until most of the
feedstuff has been swallowed or hurled away."
The poetic eye keenly absorbs a confluence of elements, as the
poetic ear often eludes words for the overall musicality of tone
and pacing. Poetry is more than ending sentences with a rhyme.
It reveals the essence of an idea, as we marvel at the person
The universe has been a poetic slate for my work—ever since sailing
the seas to South America—ever since hiking 33 miles through
a volcano under the night sky—ever since training at a pre-astronaut
camp simulation. My last few years as a painter were spent
feverishly covering large canvasses with images of our Solar
System, and later my videos drew from the universe’s landscape.
My first artistic writings on transhumanity have found their
way onboard a space probe, and today, I continue to carve images
and words like pictoglyphs on the backdrop of our universe.
How wonderful to enjoy Damien’s post. How wonderful to have
friends like Fiorella Terenze who also feels the universe sensuously.
I feel I’m in brilliant company – that expressing our desires
and passions can be done so … shall we say, poetically? Perhaps
it’s as simple as this—that the connection between the arts and
sciences is a poetic appreciation—to be emotionally moved—by
life and the universe.
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