Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Starry Eyed Pleas.

So much for the first line of the first entry of June.

My first thoughts, as well as my original idea began with the contemplating of scenery and the natural landscape that surrounded me as we trekked our way around the place. The beauty of nature was that it was perfect until man touched it, and the array of alterations created by man left it with dints and bruises that we now call our beautiful homes. The artificial, so bright and eccentric against such natural, simple works of art, by God and by man.

Surprisingly, I've learnt a few things over the years at primary school excursions, exhibitions, incursions, and even in school. Though there is this one thing I remember in particular when I visited the Melbourne Planetarium that still strikes me today.

The seats in the auditorium were large, soft and rather comfortable, and I decided that they were better than the average cinema seats as I snugged myself deep into the chair. I gazed around as my friends plopped themselves beside me, who instantly admiring the comfort of their chairs as I had. The room was quite large, and had a fairly spacious, black ceiling, whilst the chairs were all in an arched formation in accordance to the circular room. As I began to relax, I suddenly felt the back of my chair begin to depress slowly, and in my surprise, I immediately grasped the arms of my chair, and accidentally found the hand of one of my friends as he did too. I chuckled to myself slightly, before quickly releasing, and indulging in the chair's slow movement, which reminded me of the dentist's, where they threatened to cause you to slide off the chair if you didn't comply to their orders. Luckily, the managers of the planetarium were nice today.

The ceiling suddenly buzzed to life, and numerous images and graphics flicked past my eyes as I stared at the colourfully depicted night, which brimmed with bright shining stars against a blanket of black. A voice-over began to explain these images, and various animations complimented the dark setting, though the voice slowly became a drone, and the graphics slowly moulded into a blurry sea of colours which I could no longer distinguish details, and I eventually nodded off to sleep.

I suddenly jumped awake as my friend who I'd accidentally held hands with nudged me to wake me up, and I was struck by an amazing view of the night sky, filled with stars, which was rimmed with a warm purple and orange fade into the walls of the building. The voice explained the purpose of the animation, and I found this was the normal view of a typical 8PM Melbourne night, including all electrically powered lights, signs and the like. This isn't what fazed me, so much as the next part had. The 8PM sky dimmed to blackness, with a thousand more sparkles appearing in the pitch black. This would be the typical 8PM night had there been no gas emissions, no electrical power or lighting; nothing man-made, just the natural lights of the sky, with the moon smiling down at the earth. The view was breath-taking, and vastly different from the previous scene. This picture was so much clearer compared to the foggy, dim-lit sky where the night-lights struggled to pierce their lights through the clouds. No, this picture now was beautiful, clear, natural, and completely God-made.

The voice continued to attach the stars together, and began lecturing us about constellations of which caught none of my attention as I contemplated the difference between the two scenes...

It's so amazing how much man-made material can affect God's creation. Sparkles in the midnight sky juxtaposed with foggy gas emissions and electrical power that we've taken so much pride in...have we forgotten about what's really beautiful?

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It sparked to me (excuse the pun, hehe) the beauty of nature.. and well, with me, one thing leads to another, and I ended up reminiscing about this one novel I'd read in my early middle school years (I forgot the title.. it had something to do with colour, wind, chasing or rainbows? Something like that), and it depicted a friend who tried to explain to someone else what colour was like. This friend's generosity came from the unfortunate disadvantage that that someone was blind.

It got me thinking, can you explain colour to a blind person? Basing it on its texture, its warmth, its individualistic characteristics and emotions it symbolises, would you be able to say that the sun is like a bright yellow, softly eating your skin as you bathe in its flood of warmth? Would you be able to describe the blue ocean as its icy waters lap against your skin, tickling the very tips of your toes as you dip it into the shallow beach? And the crunchy, golden texture of the sand as you grasp a handful of damp sand in one hand, and in the other, a soft, light yellow sand which seeps through your fingers the moment you raise your hand from underneath its surface?

Sight is a beautiful thing, and my heart sinks deep into my stomach whenever I see people's reluctance to open their eyes to a beautiful world, those who aren't thankful for what they have...

Because the world is beautiful, dear. Don't blind yourself, because one day, maybe you really won't see again.

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Two things You told me:
That You're strong, and You love me.
Yes, You love me.

Your Love Is Strong - Jon Foreman

LOL, Sarah.

3 comments:

trandrew said...

nice blogg, i remember this planaterian thing. Have u ever been to the country? i always wanted to go to the country one night and just lay there in the grass just to watch the sky. because theres less pollution in the country thus more stars :).

Anonymous said...

the night sky is always such a reminder of how big God is and how awesome is his creation :)

love it (the post I mean but also the night sky hehe)!

jkm. said...

hey nice blog, interesting about explaining colour to a blind person. I've often wondered if it's possible to describe colour to someone who has never seen it. I think I contemplate too many hypothetical questions. lmaoo