This picture reminded of the first few lines of the King James translation of the Book of Genesis (my favorite sci fi), look at that picture and then read the passage below:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

(via boyhood, extraterrestrialbiologicalentity)

WALKING TO MARTHA’S VINEYARD

by Franz Wright
And the ocean smells like lilacs in late August--how
is that.

The light there muted (silver) as remembered light.

Do you have any children?

No, lucky for them.

Bad things happen when you get hands, dolphin.

Can you tell us a little bit about your upbringing?

There is no down or up in space or in the womb.

If they'd stabbed me to death on the day I was born, it
would have been an act of mercy.

Like the light the last room, the windowless room at the
end, must look out on. Gold-tinged, blue

vapor trail breaking up now like the white line you see,
after driving all day, when your eyes close;

vapor trail breaking up now between huge clouds resembling
a kind of Mt. Rushmore of your parents' faces.

And these untravelled windy back roads here--cotton
leaves blowing past me, in the long blue
horizontal light--

if I am on an island, how is it they go on forever.

This sky like an infinite tenderness, I have caught
glimpses of that, often, so often, and never
yet have
I described it, I can't, somehow, I never will.

How is it that I didn't spend my whole life being
happy, loving other human beings' faces.

And wave after wave, the ocean smells like lilacs in
late August.

What is “Underground” in the age of constant contact

Here we are, 2010, super-connected and always “on” – once upon a time you had to be in a big city to find the sub-cultures that would emerge and topple the old order of things. Think rock and roll, think blues, think jazz.

Now any glimmer of something new becomes a trend piece in the New York Times.

This is not a bad thing. There is more to enjoy. The whole of human creativity, no matter how dubious the “creativity” part, can be on display for the world to see.

Life is good.